Tabula Rasa
by GorgeousGummyBear
Summary: There are always more walls to smash through and there are always more enemies and scars that will get in their way.
1. Buried Under Her Work

Temperance Brennan nervously chewed her lip as her colleague, Jack Hodgins, to awaken in the back seat of the car that they were currently trapped in- underground. She was on the verge of breakdown as all of the missed opportunities flickered through her mind like a slide show. She should've told them; she could've told them. Now, it was too late. Now, they would remember her as a socially awkward and emotionally distant squint who couldn't relate to normal human beings. _Some eulogy that'll be,_ she thought wryly as her sarky and cynical side took over. _I can hear it now, "Dr. Brennan was a driven and determined young woman who would sacrifice human interactions just so that she could identify human remains that were thousands of years old." _

She couldn't help but crack a smile at yet another ironic aspect. _I was always __**buried**__ under my work._

A groan brought her from her thoughts and caused her to look at the now waking figure beside her in the back seat. She looked over with a gentle softness in her blue eyes that silently told him to be calm.

"Dr. Brennan?" his voice cracked. "Where are we?"

"He got us, Jack. We're buried."

She softened her gaze further when panic overtook his face.

"What?"

"I think that we have about fourteen hours of air left."

"Why aren't you freaking out?"

"I'm trying to creep you out," she deadpanned. It took him a few seconds before he got the humor and started to chuckle softly.

Booth was beyond the point of losing it. He had already threatened multiple techies and was now faced with the most irritating man alive. Seeley Booth hadn't bothered to remember his name; he just sat at the table and stared him down.

"Well, even if you did pay ransom you still wouldn't be able to reach them in time," the man said. Booth had heard enough at this point, so he stood up abruptly and stormed out of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Brennan and Hodgins were now sitting upright next to each other in the back seat in silence. They had just run through their supplies and now they were each lost in contemplation as their situation suddenly became very real to both of them. _Just spit it out, Bren._

"Dr. Brennan-"

"I'm not who you think I am," she blurted out and then winced. _Way to go, MORON!_

"Huh?" Hodgins squeaked as he tilted his head to look at her.

She took a deep breath.

"I work for the FBI."

"Well, yeah," he laughed, relieved. "we all do."

"No," she shook her head in slight frustration. "I work _for_ them not _with_ them."

"So, you're like an agent?"

"Well, I used to be. I was a profiler," she took a deep breath and then began her story. "You know that I was put in the system at fifteen, but I never told you that I was put through abusive after abusive foster parent- each one worse than the last- and finally I got out with a full ride scholarship to the college of my choice."

Hodgins listened to his boss run through her life story- one that had remained hidden and secret up until that moment when she released everything. His boss never told anyone that she had joined the Marines after college; that she had been one of the top profilers at the FBI; that she actually got all of those jokes that everyone (excluding Zach) cracked at the Jeffersonian; that she didn't actually dress like the "eco-warrior" that they thought she did. No, Temperance Brennan was definitely not who they thought she was. By the time she was done, all of his questions boiled down to one.

"So, what are you really like?"

"Well," she took a deep breath. "I drink a lot of coffee, I hate paperwork, I pull a lot of pranks on people I work with, I make weird noises when I'm bored or frustrated, I'm pretty sarcastic about everything, I make jokes about really gruesome cases and situations, I love watching TV, I often run around in the rain, I can assemble a M14 sniper rifle faster than anyone I know, I'm pretty good with car chases, I've been injured a lot, I prefer cold foods, I cook a lot when I'm upset about anything, I hold liquor excellently, and I often burst out into random song and dance at random times in the day."

Hodgins was silent as he mulled all of this new information over.


	2. Office Chairs

DISCLAIMER: think really hard about this one, why would I be writing these if I owned the show???hmmm??

A/N: Hello my darlings!!! This is the second chapter and hopefully it turns out a little longer than the last one. Sorry about that, I pulled an all-nighter and wrote that before school winces. Yeah, so just keep reviewing and pray that the plot bunny keeps delivering me lots of good story eggs! Chant with me now round the campfire, "Plot plot plot plot..."

His feet pounded against the sand as he sprinted towards where he had seen the puff of smoke burst from the layer of earth that held a certain blue-eyed woman prisoner. A burning pain flickered through his legs and his lungs begged for air, but his mind wouldn't let his body stop until finally he slid to a stop in the designated place. He wasted no time for breath. His hand dug furiously through sand, ignoring the sharp sting of it in his eyes and against his face. He didn't allow himself to think until he felt her slim hand gripping his. His mind screamed, _she's alive. She's going to be OK._

Air had never tasted so utterly sweet to her lungs before the moment when Booth pulled her out of that car. She was momentarily crushed by his weight as he collapsed on top of her, but he quickly moved off of her after her weak warnings to save Hodgins. By that time, the whole group had arrived to help dig the entomologist out of his cage. It was only after he saw that they had him out, did she see Booth crawl back over and rest next to her. Brennan heaved herself up into the sitting position and looked into the deep brown orbs that showed concern and relief at that instant.

"Hi," she rasped as her shoulder shook slightly with soft laughter. His face broke out into one of the heart-gripping grins as he joined her with a soft chuckle of his own.

Hodgins eyed her wearily and wondered if she was going to tell him now that she had almost lost the chance to. Meanwhile, he had other things to focus on- like the fact that Angela now had her mouth on his. _The ends justify the means, right?_

She felt him settle in the pew next to her as her eyes continued to scan over the quiet milieu of the church. There were candles flickered softly and pushing their colored light from their holders; each a remainder of a person's tribulation. A reminder of each person's pain.

He had lit the one in the center of the back row for her. Booth couldn't help but steal a glance at his partner next to him. His mind was still screaming at him, _she's safe! She's OK!_ The corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly at the thought out of pure joy. Things would be able to go back to- what? Watching her slip away from him more and more as he spent all of his time with Cam? The smile disappeared at that moment and his eyes clouded over with thought.

She could tell that something was on his mind. He had that _look_. Squaring her shoulders, she turned towards him and opened her mouth to speak.

_Say it. _

"Booth-"

_I've been lying to you. _

_"_Yeah, Bones?"

"I'm-"

_-a profiler, not a vegetarian, a fan of television, not a squint, a Christian. SAY IT!_

_"_What?"

"I knew you wouldn't give up," she sighed after a long moment. _Damn you. _

_"_I knew you wouldn't give up," he echoed with a half-grin slicing into his previously serious features. She couldn't help but smile too as she watched the tension melt from his face. The good feeling only lasted a moment before a feeling of guilt and betrayal wrapped her in an unwelcome embrace.

It was nearly three a.m. and Brennan was still busily hunched over the body when Hodgins emerged from the lab on crutches. He eyed her suspiciously before sliding his ID badge through the scanner and hobbling up the stairs to join her by the table.

"Hey, Hodgins," Brennan replied distantly as she lightly traced a marking on the teenaged boy's rib. "How's your leg?"

"Hurt like hell," he grinned, easing himself into an office chair. "Have you told Booth?"

"Subtle," she muttered sarcastically. "No, not yet."

"Dr. Brennan-"

"Oh, would you stop calling me that?" she sighed with a slight laugh.

"All right, _Bones-"_

A death glare cut him off.

"Tempe?" Hodgins suggested.

"Yeah, only without the long 'e' on the end. That sounds dumb. Tempe or Bren," she said with a definitive nod of her head. She straightened her back and looked at him.

"Anyway, when are you going to tell him?"

She slumped down into a chair next to Hodgins and quickly spun around once before stopping again.

"I tried, but I don't think I can handle betraying him."

"Technically, you've been betraying -though it doesn't really qualify as that- from the beginning."

"What's the blunt version of that? You giggle while you say it and run over my dog?"

"Sorry," he winced. They were silent for a long time before he spoke again.

"Does Angela know?"

"Somewhat. She doesn't know about the FBI part, but she does know that I'm not really this nerdy."

"That's good."

"Cam will freak out and fire me," she smiled wryly.

"She won't fire you," he said encouragingly. "She'll probably sit there with that look on her face."

"Oh, the 'I'll pretend to give a crap but only a little bit' face?"

"Exactly!"

"Oh, that face, I know it well," Brennan said in her "Shakespeare" voice, dry and lightly brushed with an English accent.

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Hey, guys! Thanks for the reviews!!! I really appreciate you guys taking time out of your day to make mine better!! Anyway, I should have a new chapter up soon, but no guarantees seeing as how my English teacher loves to assign projects. Just kidding, I always take time to write a little Brennan and Booth. Hehe...

"Plot plot plot plot..."


	3. Digging Herself A Hole

_The same night..._

Booth sat bolt upright in his bed, panting and sweating, with images from his nightmare still playing in his mind. He hadn't gotten to Brennan in time and instead of feeling her pull against his arm, the ground spit up her lifeless and limp body. What haunted him was that her eyes- glazed with death- were open and staring at him. He shivered and felt something stir beside him. His chocolate eyes fell to the woman beside him and only more grief filled his torso. Black hair, not auburn, was fanned out across his pillow. He stopped himself before the longing- he didn't like the word "pining"- set in too strongly. _I am not in love with my partner. I am not in love with my partner. I am not in love with partner._

He swung his legs over the side of his bed and went out to the living room of his apartment. The carpet muffled his nervous pacing, leaving the only audible sound in the room left to the ticking of the clock. Booth decided right then and there that he hated clocks.

Later that day at the lab, Brennan watched from her perch on the platform as the lab woke up from its long night of dormancy. She was the only one that stayed the whole night, furiously working to catch the monster who had put her six feet under. Brennan had made some progress, but not enough to satisfy her need for justice.

"Hey, Bren!" Angela's voice called out cheerfully as she strode to the platform, cleared the security with a smooth swipe of her ID, and came to a stop next to the doctor. "How're you feeling?"

"OK, I guess. It's good to be working again," Brennan smiled softly before turning around and sweeping her gaze over the skeletons for the thousandth time. "Everything's going to change."

"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"I mean that- you can't even see where the Titanic hit this iceberg yet," Brennan said, the joke falling from her lips comfortably. It felt good to joke again; she finally felt her old personality returning as she grinned mischievously, leaving Angela gaping at her.

"Hello, ladies," Hodgins grinned cheekily at both of them as he hauled himself onto the platform.

"Hi, Jack," Angela smiled back.

"Hey, Hodgins," Brennan grinned at him knowingly as she snapped on her latex gloves.

"What's up?" he asked once he was settled in his office chair again.

"Why don't you address that question later," Brennan said, a teasing grin appearing before she lowered her voice. "If you know what I mean."

Hodgins eyes bulged with a mixture of laughter and shock as Angela's jaw dropped.

"Oh my God," Hodgins said slowly.

"Sorry, I had to throw that one in there," Brennan snickered.

"All right, that was pretty good," Angela finally complied and chuckled herself.

Meanwhile, Booth was entering the lab with a nervous expression on his face. Would she be scarred? Would she put up her walls again? Would she shut him out? His mind tortured him with questions until the sound of her dulcet laughter echoed through the lab and reached his ears; he stopped and stared at her incredulously. He had never heard her laugh like that- ever. His legs quickly carried him to the platform and he didn't stop until he was standing next to her, trying to seem nonchalant and casual even though he was almost bursting with joy at the sight of her working again.

"Hey, Bones," he smiled his infamous "charm" smile. She looked up at him and greeted him with a luminous one of her own. His eyebrows came together when he noticed something had changed in her normally serious azure eyes; she seemed...happy? That didn't make sense considering that he had pulled her out of her own grave not even 48 hours before.

_Crap, he noticed. Oh well, it'll make this whole thing easier. _She shot him a final smile before turning back to her work.

"Dr. Brennan!" Zach called out as he scurried over towards her looking like he had just found the Holy Grail.

"Yeah?" she answered as she straightened back up again.

"_Yeah?"_ Booth thought. _Since when does she answer people like that? _

"I think I found something."

"Great. What is it?"

"I was able to reconstruct the taser that was used to- you know- and I linked it back to a man that lives just outside of DC," Zach blurted out.

"Excellent. Booth, should we go check it out?" she asked, looking at him expectantly. _Nice, now you have to be alone with him in a confined space. _

"Sure. You ready to go?" he asked, holding out his arm to guide her away like he always did. She turned back to Hodgins.

"I'm digging myself a hole," she muttered before slapping her forehead and laughing.

"You're terrible," he shook his head at her before Booth interrupted.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Brennan shook him off before fleeing from the platform, Booth in tow. They walked out into the car in silence and then spent the first half of the ride the same way.

"So," Booth exhaled, nervously breaking the silence. "How are you doing?"

"I'm OK," she answered cautiously, eying him with amusement. "How are _you_ doing?"

He shook his head.

"No, Bones. I meant-"

"I know, Booth," she smiled gently at him. "I'm really OK."

"Come on. You know you can talk to me. Don't shut me out, please."

"I'm not shutting you out," she assured him before continuing softly. "It's hardly the worst I've been through."


	4. You Have Questions, Don't You?

DISCLAIMER: still don't own it...let's just keep that in mind for the rest of this story

A/N: This is a partial continuation of the last chapter and the rest takes place in "The Headless Witch in the Woods". I would just like to say that I love all of my reviewers for being SO fabulous and patient (I know it's kind of a weird one that I'm writing). Thanks again!!

(cont'd)

"Look, Bones, it's OK if you're freaked out."

"Whatever happened to your 'no talking in the car' rule?" she sighed histrionically.

"You have to talk about it, all right? I'd be scared too-"

"What's the point in me talking when you won't even listen to me?!" she shouted, getting his attention.

_Ouch, _he winced. _She has a point._

"If you need to talk-"

"I have your number," she sighed. "I'll call you, we'll do lunch."

A slow smile crept onto his face as the memory played itself in his mind. She let out a small laugh and grinned out the windshield.

"_You know, the next time you miss me, call me and we'll do lunch." _

_"I did not miss you!"_

_"Yes- admit it, you missed me!" _

A few days later...

They were walking through the woods as a ranger told them about where the body had been discovered and Booth couldn't help but remind Brennan to stay close and in sight. She replied by rolling her eyes and pulling on her latex gloves as the ranger went to describe the legend of Maggie Cinders, a witch that has been said to chop off the heads of her unfortunate victims. Booth walked ahead slightly as he listened to the ranger and didn't notice when Brennan's stride came to a halt.

Her eye had caught a talisman hanging from a nearby tree and she, forgetting Booth's warning, stopped to examine it further. Brennan had seen talismans in all different forms in her previous line of work and each time was just as disturbing. Yet, it still wasn't nearly as frightening as her time with the Tower, a murderous cult who had decided to kidnap her in order to tease the FBI and the CIA. A year of brainwashing and indescribable torture techniques had made every other near-death experience seem like child's play.

It was a few moments later that Booth realized that his partner had disappeared; panic quickened his pulse and flashes of the Gravedigger- the phone call, the blood in the parking garage, the thought of losing her forever- shot through his mind.

"Bones?" he called out shakily, eyes searching frantically for her figure.

"I'm right here," she answered and he immediately rushed to where she was standing.

"Geez, don't do that, Bones," he muttered as he came to a stop beside her.

"I found a talisman. Those are bones from a bird and the coloring on the ornament suggests blood," she explained. "There are more."

"Bag these up and send them to the Jeffersonian, will ya?" Booth snapped at the ranger, who nodded in response and then relayed the order to the other men trailing behind.

A few hours later, Brennan was sitting in her office as she went through her notes when Hodgins entered casually without knocking and flopped onto her couch. She raised an eyebrow at his behavior and then let out a small laugh.

"I see you're adjusting well to my news," she commented wryly, turning her full attention toward him.

"Eh, it's kinda cool," he said playfully.

"You have questions, don't you?"

"You're good."

"Oh, you have no idea," she chuckled. "What would you like to know?"

"What you're doing here."

She nodded and let her gaze wander in thought.

"The Bureau thought I snapped after a case- well, it wasn't really a case, I guess. There was this cult- they called themselves 'The Tower'- and there was something twisted about them. They decided to taunt the FBI and the CIA- don't even start with me, Hodgins," she warned. "They came into my apartment and abducted me. I was held and tortured for over a year for no particular reason. They tried brainwashing me and then they would subject me to the sickest forms of torture that I've ever heard of."

"What happened?"

"I got out. I killed most of them and wounded the rest," she sighed heavily. "I got back to the United States and we destroyed them. They sent me here to recover."

"How are you so good-"

"At forensic anthropology? Ah, I still have a few PhDs in that. I didn't lie about my college, I just skimped on some of the other details."

"Like loving psychology?"

"I hate it to a degree, just not for the reasons I told you about."

"Huh?"

"They put me under psychological evaluation after they found out who my parents were. They thought that it was 'in my DNA'," she scoffed with disgust. "They thought that I would snap and shoot everyone."

"That's sick."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Why the act then?"

"I shut down. I got sick of the looks I got when they found out about it, so I just stopped telling them about it," she shrugged. "And Booth just pissed me off with the whole 'squint' stereotype."

"I can see that."

She laughed quietly at the memory and then heard some commotion outside near the platform. They exchanged looks and then went out to start the examination.

A few hours later at the lab, Brennan was examining the skeleton with Zach while Cam and Hodgins prated about ghosts and the supernatural. Brennan listened half-heartedly and shook her head slightly. _If they only knew. _

"What? You don't believe in ghosts?" Cam asked with a tinge of mocking in her voice. Hodgins cocked an eyebrow at her, which she chose to ignore.

"No, I don't."

"My mother appeared to me the day after she died," Cam sang under her breath.

"If a ghost is merely the outer layer of amoeboid cells, how did the victim sustain bruising and injuries?"

"There are no such thing as ghosts, Zach," Brennan chided.

"Well, my mother came to me and told me to look in the third drawer on the left side of her dresser."

"Did you find anything there?" Zach asked curiously.

"This," Cam said as she produced a small pink charm on a silver chain from under her collar. "with a note telling me that she wanted me to have it."

"All right," Angela said wearily as she stopped at the base of the platform. "I finished rendering the first part of the tape."

Moments later, they were all crowded in front of Angela's computer; Angela sitting directly in front of it with Zach sitting next to her, Booth and Cam behind her, and Brennan and Hodgins standing slightly off to the side of the group. Angela grimaced and hit play and instantly screaming and frantic breathing filled the room.

"_Brian?! BRIAN!"_

_"Lori, wait! Lori, come back!" _

Brennan gaze was caught with a slight movement below her; she looked down just in time to see Cam reach across and latch onto Booth's hand. A quick flick of her eyes caught Booth frown slightly and then squeezed it lightly in return before casually holding hers in between them. Brennan chewed her lip for a minute before returning her focus to the screen.

"How disturbing is this?" Hodgins whispered to her, too low for the others to hear.

"I've seen a lot worse," she shrugged absently.

"Wow."

"You have no idea."

Angela shot out her arm and stopped the tape, leaving everyone in a numb silence.

"We're looking at a male, Caucasian, 25-35, he knows his way around-" Brennan trailed off slightly as her mouth failed to keep up with her brain once again. Her profiler instincts were kicking in full force as a description of the killer slowly formed in her mind.

"Bones, what the hell are you doing?" Booth demanded, snapping her out of her quiet ramblings. She looked up to find them all staring at her expectantly; Hodgins just elbowed her softly in her ribs.

"Nothing," she said slowly.

"It didn't sound like nothing. Lucy, you have some 'splaining to do," Booth narrowed his eyes playfully at her.

"I don't know what that means," she replied automatically, causing Booth to stare at her like she was an alien. She had convinced him once again that she was a hard-core squint; that is, until Hodgins slapped her upside the head. She grinned mischievously and then shook her head at him.

"Skank," Brennan muttered under her breath teasingly before realizing that everyone was gaping at the exchange. "I was just going over what we knew so far."

"OK," Booth said slowly, not believing her. "So, what do we know so far? Refresh our memories."

He watched as panic and something else- almost like anticipation- flashed through her eyes; she stared at him and then averted her eyes to the floor._ What is going on with her lately?_ he thought as his eyes bored into her skull. Brennan didn't seem as closed off as she had been before; she seemed vulnerable and yet completely secure at the same time. She opened her mouth to speak, but her cell phone cut her off, which raised even more questions- all the people who would call her were standing in the room.

"Stop calling me, you idiot-whore-bag," she mock growled into the phone. Booth's eyebrows shot up in surprise at her greeting.

"Thank God it's you," she giggled. "Last time I said that to Johnson and he ripped me a new one about 'professional conduct in the work place'."

"What is going on?" Cam whispered to him. He just shook his head as he was completely rendered speechless, his eyes still fixed on his partner.

"_Oh, but we're completely professional_," her partner at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, James Carson, teased sarcastically.

"I know!" she said, shot back equally.

"_I mean, we're just flirting_-"

"And groping in all professionalism, right?" she quipped, seeing one of their mock sexual innuendos coming on. It had become habit between them to just fake flirt with each other even though it was completely meaningless and all in good humor.

"_I did not grope you_!"

"Yes, you did!" she laughed.

"_It's not like it was unwelcome._"

"I never said it was unwelcome, I was just making sure you were aware of it."

"_Slut_," he chuckled, then he looked around and winced. "_Sorry, that was kinda loud._"

"It's OK. They all know I'm a whore," Brennan shrugged casually, referring to her coworkers at Quantico.

"_What? Oh, man, I am getting ripped off_!"

"Eh, you can't afford me."

Booth's jaw fell to the floor.

"Haha, why are you calling me, Quinn? Hmmm?" Brennan hummed.

_"I need help with a case._"

"I don't know. I've got one too," she chewed her lip as she glanced back at the computer screen.

_"Please? It's psychotic_," he purred as to entice her into helping him.

"My favorite," she grinned. "You stuck?"

"_Well, we've hit a bit of a roadblock._"

"You're stuck," she clarified.

_"What kind of case do you have_?"

"It's one of _those_ cases."

"_Oh, one of __**those**__ cases." _

"Yeah, so send me your crap and I'll take a look at it when I can," Brennan sighed.

_"All right. Love you, babe."_

"Love you too," she replied before closing her phone and turning back to the group.

Booth was unable to do anything except stare at her in shock and amazement; since when did she talk to anyone like that ever? And who was this guy? Something weird was going on and he wanted answers now. Thankfully, his ability to speak returned, but Hodgins beat him to the punch.

"Who was that?" he asked. "Boyfriend?"

"Quinn? My boyfriend?" she paused and then burst out laughing.

"What?"

"Ah, the day I date him is the day a snowball fight breaks out in hell."

"OK WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Booth shouted, causing everyone to jump- everyone except for Brennan who just turned her head slightly and looked at him questioningly.

"I'm allowed to work cases without you, you know?" she said, ready to defend herself. "I'm not your chattel."

"Who was on the phone?" he asked, anger slowly building.

"Why can't a friend call me and ask me for help? Why is that so weird?"

"BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE FRIENDS!" he yelled before he could stop himself. Everyone grimaced and Angela gasped in hateful shock.

"Apparently," she said in an eerie calm before turning on her heel and striding out of the room, leaving the sting of her comment in Booth's mind.

"Wait! Does that mean you're going to cook?!" Hodgins called out as he followed her.


	5. Blond Moment

Thank you all for the great reviews!!! They're the creamer to my coffee, the salt to my french fries, the apple to my pie, and the cheese on my macaroni. Crap, now I'm hungry grrrrrrrr... so anyway, this chapter picks up where we left off.

_SLAP_! The back of Angela's hand connected with Booth's jaw, causing him to stumble back in shock. She was stronger than she looked and now she was angrier than he had ever seen her.

"Miss Montenegro!" Cam scolded, but Angela was too irate to pay attention.

"You bastard!" she shrieked. "How could you say that?!"

"Ange, I-"

"She depends on you to be there for her and you basically just ripped that away from her! How could you be so cruel?!"  
"I didn't mean-"

"Oh, drop dead, scumball!" she shouted before stalking out of the room, followed by the stunned gazes of the other three.

Brennan was sitting at her desk in her office as she checked her email for the new crime scene photos when Hodgins hobbled inside and once again sat on her couch.

"Hodgins, we meet again," she said teasingly.

"I just wanted to make sure you're OK," he said sincerely.

"I'm all right. I just feel really bad about lying to him."

"Yeah," Hodgins sighed. "he's getting really pissed."

"I know."

"You need to tell him."

"It's not as easy as it sounds."

"Why not?"

"What?"

"Why does it have to be difficult? Why don't you just tell him?"

"I hate you," she deadpanned, eliciting a laugh from both of them. The slamming of her office door startled both scientists as Angela came flying in with a shriek of rage.

"You OK?" Brennan asked slowly, eyebrows raised.

"He was such a jerk to you, Sweetie! I can't believe he said that!" Angela fumed.

"I don't really care about that, Babe. He's just being dumb," Brennan assured her as she stood up to calm the artist down.

"Still, he had no right!" she growled, then she noticed the third occupant in the room. "What are you doing in here?"

"Just- hanging out," he shrugged, locking eye contact with her.

"That's cool," she sighed. Brennan glanced between the two and instantly noticed the attraction; grinning to herself, she quietly slipped out of the office.

Booth was standing by the platform when he saw his partner emerge from her office with a huge smile on her face. He watched her for a moment before jogging to catch up with her and when he stopped in front of her, she lost the smile and stared at him with annoyance.

"What?" she asked curtly, causing him to wince slightly.

"Look, Bones, I'm-"

"It's fine, Booth."

"No, it's not. I was an ass."

"I'll admit, I expected a reaction out of you," she told him. "I just didn't expect you to be such a girl about it."

She grinned triumphantly at him before walking away.

"What?" he whispered in confusion to himself. He stood there as he tried to figure out just what had gotten into her lately; that was how Cam found him minutes later.

"How're you doing?" she asked, eying him warily.

"She's- she's just- she's _changed_."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No, it's just odd."

"Yeah, it is, but she seems like she's having a good time," Cam noted as they turned to see the anthropologist on the platform laughing at something that Angela had said.

"I know, but I just hate being left in the dark."

Cam looked around to make sure no one was watching before reaching up and placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"You should go talk to the brother," she suggested sweetly before sauntering off. _Perfect!_ he thought. _Now I can ask her about it. _He quickly strode over the platform and soon he could hear what was being said.

"Yeah, I told him that my passion was forensic archaeology on accident and then I just yelled 'Shit!' across the room," Brennan snickered. "Not a good job interview for me."

"Oh my gosh," Angela laughed hysterically.

"I know, I was such a- hey Booth!" Brennan grinned brightly at him, throwing him off guard.

"Hi," he smiled nervously. "Uh, we need to go talk to the brother."

"All right," she sighed before following him.

They pulled out of the parking lot in his black SUV with a comfortable silence settling over the two partners when Brennan laughed softly. Booth was clearly taken aback and confused, but it was still the sweetest sound in the world to him.

"What's up, Bones?"

"Nothing, I just never really realized how loud your car was."

Booth's forehead wrinkled in deep confusion as he tried to decipher her statement.

"Huh?"

"Listen to that. Can't you hear it? The engine- it's growling!"

Booth's features changed to amusement and awe.

"You're so weird," he laughed, shaking his head.

"The Beast," she said in playful, husky voice.

"Seriously, what's up with you?" he asked, turning slightly serious though the grin remained.

"Come on, Booth, how would it be funny if I just told you? You're FBI, you'll figure it out."

"Bones," he whined, knowing it was most likely a sensitive topic. "Why can't you just tell me?"

"How well do you know me, Booth?"

"Like the back of my hand," Booth replied, holding up his hand for emphasis. "But-"

She cut him off by pulling out a marker and flicking the tip over his knuckles, resulting in a black streak.

"What the-?"

"Now you don't know the back of your hand."

She was practically melting with anxiety although she appeared cool and confident; he was going to despise her eventually, she knew it. Yet, she decided to spend the last few days or weeks as his partner laughing with him and just messing around in general. She watched him think her words over and then she smiled when he shook his head and laughed.

"So," he cleared his throat. "what were you telling Angela back there? It seemed interesting."

"Yeah," she grinned. "I was telling her about when I first starting looking for a job in forensic anthropology."

"I thought you were always a forensic-"

"No, I wasn't," she said quickly. "but anyway, I went in to my interview with a guy named Smith and he began talking and I was just so nervous that I accidentally said that I wanted to be a forensic archaeologist. He looked at me like I was moron and I lost it and yelled 'Shit!' across room. Everyone turned and looked at me in complete shock."

"Wow."

"I know," she giggled. "I'm such a loser."

"Aw," he cooed at her as he patted her shoulder. Brennan whined loudly and let her head rest on the dashboard in embarrassment.

"I had no idea."

"Yeah, I've done a good job at keeping my blond moments a secret."

Booth nearly slammed on the brakes when he heard her use a figure of speech; this was definitely not like her at all. He looked at her in bewilderment and saw that she was stunned by her own statement.

"What did you just say?"

"Let's just say that I have been holding out on jokes, OK?" she chuckled nervously. "Hey, look, we're here."

She jumped out of the car the exact moment that it stopped moving.

Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you guys again for the awesome reviews!! I'm starting on the next chapter now, but I'm afraid I have to do something a little weird in the next chapter. I'm going to add on the last scene in this episode and then jump to ahead to when Sully (I know AAAH) shows up in "Bodies in the Book". Don't hate me, it'll be great!!

-Gorgeous Gummy Bear xoxo


	6. Two NonCouples

**Disclaimer: I own sunglasses, but not Bones. **

**Hello my darling!! sorry this chapter is so short, but I'm working on the next one as soon as this is up...hint, reviews help!! I'll be back soon with another carrot from the plot bunny!!**

Hodgins limped into Angela's office and stopped to watch her work for a minute. She had music blaring through the speakers of her computer as she continued to render the videos. He smiled softly before quietly venturing further into the room. Angela turned just in time to see him right behind her; she let out a piercing scream before slamming the mute button and clutching her chest to try and bring her panicked breathing back to normal.

"Hodgins! Are you trying to kill me?!" she shrieked once she was able.

"Sorry," he chuckled lightly. "What's with the music?"

"I'm trying to drown out the screaming," she spat disdainfully.

"Good idea."

"Thanks. So, did you need something?"

"Nope, just seeing how you were doing."

"Thanks," she smiled sincerely as he slumped into the chair next to her. "I just keep hearing screaming wherever I go."

"I'm sorry. I know it's harder for you," Hodgins said as he rubbed her shoulder with slow, soothing circles. She let out a burdened sigh and gently rested her head against his arm, gaining an ecstatic and elated grin from the entomologist.

The interview had gone fairly well; they had found some new information about the victim's background and now they were heading back to the lab to if any of it was useful to the case. Booth drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and glanced over at his silent partner. The moonlight, coupled with the luminescent glow of passing streetlights, danced across her prominent features and accented the deep hues of blue that her irises captured._Has she always looked like that? _he asked himself as he studied her closer. She would've looked peaceful- even happy- if a worried and pensive frown softly marred her forehead. Brennan had been staring out the window for at least ten minutes. He could see her walls slowly forming around her soul and that scared him more than anything.

"You doing OK, Bones?" he asked, trying to sound casual. The sudden sound caused her to inhale sharply.

"Yeah," she exhaled, not sounding convincing in the slightest. "I'm just- I was wondering what I would be like. What my life would've turned out like if Russ had stayed."

"Well, considering he was a petty thief, you know, in and out of jail-"

"If he had taken care of me, maybe it wouldn't have turned out like it did," she reasoned, facing the windshield now. "I'm romanticizing. That's foolish."

"No, it's human," he said comfortingly, as if three words could relieve the pain she felt. "And, for the record, you turned out pretty well."

_Don't say that_, her thoughts whimpered inside her skull. _You have no idea how I turned out. _She met his eyes with a disbelieving look laced with doubt and pain which caused him to avert his gaze quickly and clench the steering wheel with increasing force. She focused on his face and could almost see a tinge of red creeping onto his features. Brennan couldn't stop the next statement from slipping out.

"I'm having coffee with him."

He inhaled deeply and tilted his head back; why did he look upset?

"That was quick," he said through a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah," she nodded. "It's just that he knows what it's like and I've never met someone who actually understands what I went through."

_Ouch. Why don't you make out with him in front of me, too? _Booth swallowed hard and strangled the steering wheel with both hands. He chastised himself for it immediately; he had no right to be jealous when he was sleeping with her boss. He paused as he thought over the unsettling qualities of that statement. He was _sleeping_ with her boss! Booth repressed a shudder as a momentary wave of guilt crashed through his head. He was thankful that they were almost to the lab.

**I know it's short (slap on the hand for Klaire) but I will update soon!!!! **


	7. Early in the Morning

Here's the next chap, you know the drill!!!

They were walking through the park; two friends exchanging details about their day when she turned towards him, stopping their stroll in its place. Booth looked at her with deep brown eyes swirling with questions. Brennan chewed on her lip and then spoke.

"Booth," she began, voice shaking. "I need to tell you something."

"Sure, Bones, what is it?" he asked warmly, voice soothing away any uncertainty on her part.

"I-"

"You?"

"I've- um- I-" she stopped herself to mentally backhand herself for being stupid. _Come on, Bren. You're trained as a Marine as well as a CIA agent. You're an FBI agent who works for the BAU. You're going to be fine now GROW A PAIR AND TELL HIM! _

"I work for-" she once again stopped due to a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to get a better look at the flash of white she had seen and the image clicked in her mind with recognition instantly. _No, it can't be him, _she thought, eyes widening with panic.

"What's wrong?" Booth asked, the deep and loving tones of his voice washing over her face. Brennan continued to watch the man in the distance, waiting in a frozen trepidation.

"Booth, run," she spoke with a fearful voice, words choked on and strangled in her throat. "Booth, you have to run."

"What? Why?" he laughed softly at her. She weakly pulled on her partner's sleeve, but he wouldn't move. The man raised his weapon and then _POP! _She screamed as the bullet tore through Booth's chest, leaving a slowly spreading crimson rose staining his crisp white shirt; he crumpled to the ground and she was left screaming. She had Booth's blood on her hands.

Brennan sat bolt upright, but continued to scream until her mind registered that it had been a dream; a bead of sweat trickled down her face and fell onto her arm as more sweat soaked the back of her shirt. Her heart was beating painfully against her ribcage as the panic slowly dissipated. However, the fear remained. Without thinking, she snatched her cell phone from her bedside table and frantically punched in the numbers for Booth's phone.

Cam woke up to the buzzing of a phone next to the pillow on the table; she slowly pried her head away from her boyfriend's chest and groggily flipped the offending piece of plastic and held it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked through the fog covering her brain. Booth shifted in his sleep and then slowly opened his eyes, not wanting to be bothered.

"_Cam?" _

"Dr. Brennan?" Cam asked in alarm, eyes flying over to meet Booth's.

"What?" Booth asked, having quicker reflexes he grabbed the phone and held it to his ear.

"Bones? You there?"

"_Sorry, Booth. I must have- uh, dialed the wrong number. Bye!" _Brennan's voice came out in a fake and tear-soaked chuckle before she was replaced with a dial tone. Booth stared at the phone and then became worried.

Brennan sat on her bed with a death grip on her phone while her teeth held a similar hold on her bottom lip in order to prevent her screams from escaping into the hollow air of the apartment. _He's OK. You're overreacting. It was just a dream._ A small, pain laced, whimper wriggled out between her lips and caused his words to reenter her mind.

"_All humans are insignificant. Why should your friends be saved when others perish?"_

A swift, fluid movement of her arm sent the phone reeling into the wall; the remnants crashed and danced across the floor before finally settling in a mosaic of plastic and wires.

"We're sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please-" the robotic voice was cut off when Booth slammed his phone shut. Part anger, part confusion, part anxiety- it wasn't a good combination.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" Cam asked softly from her place by the headboard of Booth's bed. He had moved to the foot of the bed after her phone call and now he was feeling even more grieved and aggravated as his eighth attempt to reach her ended in failure.

"I don't know. I've never heard her sound so upset," he sighed heavily.

"You don't think she's having nightmares, do you?"

The color drained from the agent's face like water in a bathtub sans the plug.

"Oh, I am the biggest jerk in existence," he groaned miserably as he stood up and hurriedly redressing.

"Where are you going?" she asked, sitting up straighter with worry on her face.

"I have to go check on her. I just need to know that she's OK."

"Seeley, calm down. She's awake now. There's really nothing else you can do."

"I can still-"

"You know better than anyone she won't talk."

_She has a point, Seel. _He let out a long breath of air and sank bank down onto the bed.

The next day...

The anthropologist had been awake since the nightmare. It was now 7:30 A.M., so it had been approximately seven hours; she yawned for the fifth time and continued to work on the remains. A small wave of dizziness came over her head and she leaned against the table, swallowed hard, and steadied herself. Inhaling deeply, she inspected the vertebrae with a lesser version of her usual scrutiny. After a few more moments, she straightened her back and sighed with frustration. For the first time in a year, Brennan had found herself unable to focus. Her mind sprinted through different topics of thought and soon her eyes were closing on their own accord out of pure exhaustion. _Oh, yeah. I've only slept four hours in about a week and a half. _

Booth decided to come in early and check in on his partner; he knew she would be there, that's what she always did when she was upset or frustrated or angry or even- scared? He didn't like the thought of his strong and independent partner scared of something- in fact, the idea of someone being able to do that to her downright pissed him off. A movement on the platform caught his eye, causing him to look up and instinctively smile at the sight of her hovering over the remains. He couldn't help it, he had to smile when he saw her like this. She was so intent on her work and fiercely determined to solve this case. There were times that he wondered if she was more devoted to the case than he was.

Booth slowly approached her from behind in order to hang on to the last opportunity to watch her without her knowing for the day. Her ponytail hung over her shoulder and her face was lit up by the fluorescent lights under the glass of the examination table.

She didn't even realize that he was there until she saw an arm go by her face; she reacted by whirling around, slamming into Booth's chest and knocking both of them off balance. He tried to steady their postures, but only managed to fall forward and successfully pinned her against the desk next to the table. She was face up and halfway laying on the surface with Booth resting on his forearms that were currently placed on both sides of her face. They stopped moving, realizing that their faces were a mere inch apart, and locked eye contact. Brennan suppressed a shiver brought on by his warm breath caressing her lips and then she noticed that his eyes had drifted to her mouth as well. His smoldering gaze caused a warm pool of longing to bubble up in her torso. _Quick, find something unattractive about him. Nope, his breath smells delicious. No, he's wearing the cologne I love. His hair is perfect and that tie- that is currently hanging down on my stomach, I might add- is so sexy. What? Since when do you find a dark blue tie with small, lighter blue swirls sexy? _

_This is wrong,_ his mind whispered to him. _She's vulnerable and she's your partner. _He still couldn't force himself to move; she looked so innocent and young as she stared up at him from those wide blue orbs that had lost all their defense mechanisms. He could see that something was bothering her and that she was losing sleep over it. He could see that she was sad. Desire couldn't help but cloud over his eyes as he watched her eyes flick down to his chest.

"Uh, Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't feel my hands," she stated simply, breaking the trance that had settled over both of them.

"Yeah, right," he coughed as he pushed away from her and stood up. She followed suit and immediately smoothed out her lab coat.

She could still see the blood on his chest. A shudder subtly shook her shoulders as she gave Booth a lame excuse and retreated to her office. The door shut behind her a little harder than she intended to, but at least she was safe inside her safe haven. Her heels clicked as they met the floor on her way to her desk. A shaky breath and a sip of coffee later, she seemed to gain control over her emotions somewhat. _See? He's fine. Nobody is going to hurt your friends. You're all safe._

Her chair dipped slightly as she fell into it gracefully. She pulled out her notes and the crime scene photos to try to get her mind back on the case and off of her partner, who just happened to be coming her way._ He wants to know why you __**called **__him in the middle of the night_, her mind growled at her.

"Oh, this is not good," she whined to herself quietly.

He slowly made his way over to her office, unsure of her reaction. _How is she supposed to react?! You almost kissed her! You, Mr. Professional. almost tried to make out with your partner on top of a desk!_ His mind continued to yell at him until he was in her doorway, watching her type something into her computer. He quickly found himself mesmerized by her hands; her slender fingers gliding across the keyboard and gently pressing each key. The movement- extending and retracting her ivory fingers- created a slow, tantalizing rhythm. It was like she was teasing him. His eyes met her face again as she turned back toward him and started to speak.

"It's 7:40, Booth. What are you doing here so early?"

"I should ask you the same thing," he murmured softly, faintly cursing his voice for coming out in a husky rumble instead of the light and carefree tone he usually used.

"Couldn't sleep," she sighed, leaning one of her elbows against the armrest and taking on a casual stance that he suddenly found intensely attractive.

"Nightmares?"

_Way to be subtle, Seel. _

"Yeah," she admitted sheepishly, looking down in embarrassment.

"About the Gravedigger?"

Brennan was stunned for a minute; she looked at him strangely._ Does he seriously think that's what's bothering me? _

"No," she shook her head while looking at him oddly. Now it was his turn to look dumbfounded.

"What?"

"Booth, the Gravedigger doesn't bother me anymore."

He shut the door behind him and two, slow steps toward her desk with the look of puzzlement and confusion that she thought was adorable.

"What are you having nightmares about then?"

_Way to go, Bren. Now you have to admit that you were dreaming about him getting shot by the brother of a man that you assassinated. _

"Uh," she let out a dry laugh. "You know, the usual stuff."

She smiled curtly at him before standing up and attempting to leave; however, he wasn't about to let this go. He held up his arm in front of her torso and held her in place. Slowly, her eyes traveled up to his unwavering gaze and the emotion she found waiting for her in his eyes unnerved her; concern, gentleness, patience, empathy, and desire all swirling together in one single look. The scarier thing, though, was that that look made her want to tell him everything and nothing at the same time. She desperately wanted him to know who she really was, but then again she knew that he would despise her for it. This was a lose/ lose situation and she knew it.

He watched her face change as she thought about something, something he desperately wanted to understand in order to relieve her obvious turmoil. For the second time that day, her eyes flicked to a spot on his chest, but this time she inhaled sharply and clenched her eyes shut as she turned away quickly. He glanced down at his tie to see if he could find what she kept looking at and after finding nothing, he turned back to her.

"What's going on, Temperance?" he asked, voice impossibly lower. The use of her first name caused her to look back at him whilst chewing her lip nervously.

"I- I was, um," she swallowed painfully. "I was walking through a park and, uh, you were there."

_What? She had a sex dream about me? Whoa, maybe you should refrain from touching her then_.

"Yeah?" he couldn't keep the hint of excitement out of his voice.

"I was trying to tell you something and then- then you were sh-shot," she cursed herself for stammering, but her voice was trembling like a dried leaf on a windy October morning. She lowered her eyes to the floor and waited for his reaction. She could almost hear his mind processing the information. Her mind told her to keep staring at the floor, to remain professional and dignified, but her eyes acted on their own volition. They looked up at his face and found him staring at her still.

"Who was the man that shot me?"

"His name is Frank Tothill," she replied.

"What were you trying to tell me?" he asked. She knew telling him that part was a mistake- now the pressure would increase.

"Something that I need you to know, but not right now."

"Is this what I've been asking about?"

"Yeah, yeah it is."

"When will you tell me?"

"Soon, I just need some time."

"For what?" he asked. He was beginning to grow irritated.

"I just don't want you to hate me for it," she whispered to him before fleeing the office.

Booth was left standing in deep thought. Then, he got an idea; he had a name now and he was going to find out who Brennan was afraid of.

Hey guys!! sorry it took me forever to update, but I had finals so I was kind of busy. straps on bullet proof vest for good measure anyway, the next chapter shouldn't take that long to finish. Next up comes Brennan and the guys "de-squinting" her apartment. Lots of cuteness!!!


	8. Fun Dip and Bath Towels

They had been working for three straight hours before anyone found something relevant to the case; Hodgins found a breakthrough in the form of a message scrawled across the back of the screenplay. He caught everyone's attention and then read it out loud. It read:

_They will scream for air but their lungs will fill with blood_

"Booth should show this to a profiler," Cam suggested to Hodgins before walking away to find her elusive boyfriend. After she was gone, Brennan sidled up to Hodgins and perched herself against the desk. Crossing her arms over her chest she turned to reread the message briefly over her shoulder.

"What do you think?" he asked in a lowered voice, eyes shining with bright anticipation to see Brennan take psychology for a spin.

"It fits derangement. The handwriting looks legit because the pen was pressing heavily into the paper and it moved quickly. Like he was scared."

"You're good."

"No, not really. We should email this to Spencer and get his opinion. He's a lot better at handwriting analysis than I am."

"Who's Spencer?"

"Youngest member of our team. He's a genius. Really, it's amazing watching him think out loud."

"'Genius'? You must really adore that kid."

"No, he's actually a genius. He has an IQ of 150, an eidetic memory, and can read at 2200 words per minute."

"Nice."

"Yeah," she grinned, showing pride in her former team member, and then glanced at her watch. "Oh, I should go. I'm meeting Brian for coffee."

Booth smiled politely as Cam approached him with the signature "I found something" face. He smoothed out his tie and nodded a greeting with a charming half-smile; then he realized that he hadn't seen her since he sneaked out of the apartment that morning before she woke up.

"You left in a hurry this morning," she smirked.

"Sorry, I just wanted to check on Bones," he admitted.

"You're a good friend, Seeley, but you have got to realize that it is not your job to coddle her."

The agent's politeness evaporated and a look of slow burning anger took its place.

"'Coddle her'? She was buried alive by a psychopath!"

"She's a grown woman! She can take care of herself."

He gaped at her with open disbelief at her blunt statement and cold disposition.

"She's been alone long enough, don't you think?" he asked quietly before turning on his heel and leaving his sort-of girlfriend to mull it all over.

He strode back out into the main laboratory in time to see Brennan making her way towards the front entrance. _Oh, yeah, she has a date, _he thought dismally. As he was turning to head over to Hodgins, he heard her call out to him.

"Hey," she grinned at him as she lightly jogged over to where he was standing.

"You leaving for your date?"

"If by 'date' you mean 'coffee', then yes, but I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with me and the guys tonight."

He furrowed his brow.

"'The guys'?"

"Yeah, just a bunch of old friends of mine."

"Squints? No, no way."

"Not squints, Booth," she corrected him with a playful shove to his shoulder. "They're actually FBI agents and I really think that you'll like them."

"Hmm," he pretended to think it over. Of course he would hang out with her; he would _always_ agree to hang out with his girl.

"Quinn will be there," she grinned at him. "You know, the guy that called me."

_Good Mood, meet Pissed Off. He'll be substituting in your place until Explanation arrives._

"The guy that called you a 'whore'?" he couldn't keep the twinge of disgust and rage out of his voice.

"Booth! That's a joke! We've been joking around like that since I was sixteen!"

_What the hell?!_

"What?"

"Yeah, it's been an inside joke since high school. Quinn would never actually call me that!" she laughed softly.

"Oh," he said lamely.

"Yeah, we always joke around like that. We have a million of those- although, now that you mention it, we probably should cut down because I think people are starting to get the idea that I got pregnant from prostitution," she deadpanned.

His eyes widened with shock and he could've sworn he was having a stroke. Did Bones, the empirical scientist that took everything literally, really goof off more than he did?

"What exactly does 'hanging out' entail?"

"I don't really know what they have planned. It's Quinn, Carrie, and Spencer, so it could turn into anything really. I do, however, know that they're planning on 'de-squinting' my apartment."

"I'll be there. What time?" he asked as warm half-grin crept onto his face.

_Sweet mother of Buddha, he is gorgeous, _she thought inwardly as that incredibly sexy smile graced his face.

"6:00," she smiled sweetly at him before sauntering off, she turned around to call out the last detail. "Hodgins will be there too, so I kinda lied about the 'no squint' thing."

And with that, she walked off, somewhat intentionally swaying her hips with a little extra "sexy" just in case Booth happened to be watching.

That night. Brennan's apartment. 5:00.

Booth slowly opened Brennan's front door and he entered with caution; he had received a phone call from the infamous Agent Quinn himself a few hours before and had been informed that Brennan had misinformed him and that they were actually planning on meeting an hour earlier than she had specified. So, there he was, dressed in black t-shirt and worn, faded jeans, walking into her apartment unannounced.

He was immediately greeted with a chorus of "Hey!" coming from the people he assumed were the agents that she had told him about.

"Hi," he smiled politely at them while eying them warily.

"You must be Booth," a man said as he approached. He was a man about Booth's age who was about half an inch shorter and had a well-defined, muscular build with shaggy blond hair and green eyes. He was dressed in a Beatles t-shirt and loose fitting jeans.

"I'm James Quinn," he grinned as he extended his hand to Booth, which Booth shook with a little extra aggression. "This is Carrie Holtz and Spencer Bishop." Booth noted the other two; Carrie, a lean red-head, was dressed in a red, long-sleeved shirt and jeans and Spencer, a tall and lanky man with shaggy brown hair, was dressed in a Harvard sweatshirt and khaki pants.

"So, what's going on?" he asked, gesturing to the table full of food and candy and the cardboard boxes piled around the room.

"We're basically taking all of the nerdy stuff out of her apartment and redecorating it like her old one," Carrie offered. "You don't have to do anything, so go ahead and help yourself to the food."

"Can you believe how much she cooked the other night?" Spencer asked Quinn.

"Yeah, really," Quinn agreed as he looked around at the table. "I mean, I know she cooks when she's upset, but come on- cherry pie? Steak? Macaroni and Cheese?"

Booth listened to their conversation as he excused himself to the kitchen to grab a beer out of her fridge. He pulled the door open and his jaw fell open at the sight of her refrigerator, nearly busting at the seams with various foods; he quickly grew confused. Every kind of food imaginable was wrapped in saran wrap. Baby-back ribs, pie, chicken, shrimp Alfredo, pasta, fudge- it never ended.

"Do you know what's bothering her? I mean, normally she calls someone, but I never heard from her. Did she call you guys?" Booth heard Carrie ask the other two. His heart swelled at the thought that she had called him, but then he remembered that Cam had answered. _Yeah, not the ideal situation._ Shaking his head, he rejoined the others just in time to see Hodgins enter the apartment along with Angela.

"Hey man!" Hodgins grinned.

"Hi, Sweetie," Angela winked before turning to introduce herself to the others.

Brennan turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel; she glanced at the clock. _5:15. All right, I've got forty-five more minutes. _Pulling her hair back into a messy bun and secured the towel around her body, she headed out into the living room to grab her cell phone to make sure that she hadn't missed any calls. She did not, however, expect everyone to be talking and laughing.

Booth looked up as Brennan froze in the doorway. His heart stopped beating and his lungs froze when he saw her. She was dressed in nothing except for a towel that revealed only the top of her chest and stopped at mid-thigh. Her hair was pulled away from her face, but a few rebellious strands broke loose and hung around her face. Her face went from shock to casual in about 2.5 seconds. That was when everyone turned to look at her.

"Does this towel make me look fat?" Brennan asked nonchalantly as she put one hand on her hip and cocked it out to the side, making the towel split slightly to reveal more of her leg. Booth gulped and tried to calm his excitement as the others burst into a fit of laughter.

"What? I think it's slimming," Brennan continued with an innocent expression on her face. "Hey Booth."

"Hi," he somehow managed to say through the heated desire coursing through his body.

"That's hot, Bren," Angela winked.

"I know, right?" Brennan answered smugly, she was about to leave when she turned to Quinn. "I'm going to have to raise my prices."

Another roar of laughter erupted as she disappeared back into her bedroom. Booth had to focus on a spot on the wall to keep himself from running after Brennan and taking her right then and there.

Dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a dark blue tank top that hugged her every curve, Brennan went back out to the living room to join her friends- and to punch Quinn in the shoulder with aggression that conveyed her playful annoyance with him. He responded by throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her toward him to kiss the side of her head.

"So, Booth, have you ever tried Ultimate Fun-Dip?" Brennan asked, mischief sparkling in her eyes as she gently guided him over to the couch.

"No."

He looked at her oddly as she handed him a Fun-Dip stick and then held hers up. She stuck half of it in her mouth for a second before pulling it out and dipped it into the large mixing bowl of the powdered candy. She held it up to show him the now candy covered stick and then she ate the powder off of it.

He still didn't understand how his throat could be dry like sandpaper and yet he was also on the verge of drooling at her innocent, but devilishly sexy at the same time. _It's just candy, you pervert._ Smiling shakily at her, he followed suit and soon, after they both had a nice sugar buzz going, they realized that Quinn and Carrie were almost finished loading up her bookcase.

"Hey!" Brennan shrieked as she flew off the couch at them. "I like some of these!"

"Easy there, G.I. Jane, we put your favorites in the box over there," Quinn laughed at his friend's outburst of childish rage. Booth laughed loudly as Brennan threw her arm around the blond agent's neck and pulled him down in a headlock. His eyes immediately shot to a strip of newly-exposed skin on her lower back. He did a double take when he saw "Always Faithful" tattooed across the skin above her waistband in a modern, yet feminine font. _Why does she have the Marine Corps. motto tattooed on her back?_ he wondered. His head wouldn't focus on that too long though as he found himself completely turned on by the display.

"Easy, Bren! You don't want to kill someone...again," Carrie called from the kitchen. Brennan's mouth fell open in mock offense just as music began playing from the stereo on the wall. Booth instantly recognized the CD as Motion City Soundtrack.

"What's up?" Hodgins asked as he flopped down on the couch next to Booth, causing Booth to wince at the hidden meaning in the question.

"Nothing,"_that you can see_ "it's just really odd seeing her act like this. She's supposed to be a squint."  
"Come on, dude, nobody's that nerdy- well, except for Zach."

"Yeah," Booth let out a frustrated sigh.

"She'll tell you eventually."

Booth snapped his head toward the entomologist.

"What do you know?" he demanded, eyes sharpening into the "interrogation" stare.

"I'm not allowed to tell you," Hodgins chuckled before getting up and going over to where Brennan was hanging up a framed photo.

The group of them spent the rest of the night redoing her apartment until it was starting to look like her old apartment. There were photographs hanging on the wall along with some framed quotes that Angela had written stylishly with calligraphy and added colorful and whimsical borders. The furniture was now adorned with brightly colored pillows and a new plasma screen TV hung from the wall, surrounded by a wide and diverse collection of DVDs. Her old cherry maple bookshelves had been replaced by modern ones built of glass and steel with only her favorite books remaining. They had also redone her bedroom with a similar style. Booth had altogether enjoyed himself more than he had in a long time; Brennan's friends made sure that there was never a dull moment from dancing to music that most considered cheesy to making epic sexual innuendos about everything. And even though he had fun that night, he just wanted to spend a few hours with Brennan alone; she seemed so carefree and relaxed that he was unmistakably drawn to her.

He was pulled from his reverie when Brennan sat down on the floor next to him in front of the couch and looked over at him with an elated look on her face.

"Glad you came?" she nudged his arm with her elbow.

"Yeah. Your friends are great," he smiled softly.

"They are," she sighed. "I'm glad you came too. You've seemed stressed lately."

"Yeah, you're partner being buried alive will do that to you."

"I'm sorry I woke you up last night. I forgot Cam would be there."

He stopped and looked at her with alarm.

"How do you know-"

"The power of observation: it's a wonderful thing."

"I should've told you."

"Eh, it's OK."

"Hey, Bren!" Quinn called to her from across the room. "Do you still have that scar you got in boot camp?"

Booth's head snapped towards his partner, who was staring at the wall in shock.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in the Marines?" Booth growled at her.

* * *

**Dun dun duuuunn!!! sorry for the cliffie, but I promise I'll be back soon! Hope you enjoyed this one. Next one will involve a dead guy and SULLY!!! aaaaaahh!!! hahaha!!!! next chapter will be fun-filled and angsty at the same time...oooooh isn't it delicious? Please review, I am begging you!!!!**


	9. In Dreams

OK, so I lied about this one being the "Big One", but I promise the next one will be...maybe you shouldn't count on that given my record. However, the next one will be interesting! Keep reviewing, you guys keep me going.

* * *

"_Why didn't you tell me you were in the Marines?" Booth growled at her._

He made it very clear through his stare that he needed answers now. She held his gaze before standing up and motioning for him to follow her. He sprang to his feet and followed her into her bedroom; she closed the door after them and then stood directly in front of him with a nervous and guilty look on her face.

"I was recruited right out of high school. I worked Special Ops. until I was twenty-two," she said, voice low with anguish. Brennan could feel it coming; he was going to ask her how she could keep a secret like that from him when he had confessed to her his sins about his Army days. He was going to ask her how she could lie to him like that, how she could fake innocence when she was a murderer. Temperance Brennan had, after all, killed 42 people.

She was forced to look up at him when he didn't answer.

"I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you, Booth," she blurted out. "You have no idea how much it killed me to lie to you, but I couldn't let you get close to me. You were breaking down my defenses and-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked simply, cutting off her rambling. He didn't sound hurt or angry- he was just curious. She was dumbfounded.

"What?"

"I don't see how you couldn't just tell me. I mean, it's not like you're working for CIA or anything," he chuckled with amusement. He paled when she bit her lip and scratched her neck nervously.

"Oh my God," he gasped.

"I only did some consulting work with them on some missions and stuff. I haven't gotten any assignments in years."

"Who else do you work for? Wait, how do you know- you're a profiler, too?!"

"Yeah," she grimaced.

"How could you lie to me, Brennan? Did our partnership mean nothing to you?!"

"I wanted to tell you, but-"

"But what?!" he seethed. "God, I was such an idiot. Here I am pouring my heart out to you and you're just sitting there laughing at me."

"No! Booth, how could you think that?" she asked as tears began to burn her eyes.

"I felt bad for you," he spat with repulsion. "You disgust me."

Brennan jolted awake to find that she had drifted off to sleep against the couch; she had fallen asleep mere minutes after Booth and the others left. Scrubbing a hand over her face, she quietly told herself that it had been a dream and that she still needed to tell him before she took this too far.

* * *

Meanwhile, Booth was leaning back against the couch while a certain woman straddled his lap and planted sensual, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone. Her hands were slowly massaging the muscles in his chest while her hair swished across his skin with each move of her head. Her hot breath danced across his now moistened neck and he groaned under her touch; he couldn't take her teasing much longer. He needed her _now_. 

Burying his head in her hair, he moaned into her ear, "Bones."

Booth sat bolt upright in his bed with panic. He looked down at the place next to him and almost melted in relief when he found that Cam wasn't there; it would be hard to explain why he was having a sex dream about his partner...and her tattoo._ Oh God. _He could not get the image of the beautiful words permanently written across the tender skin of her back.

Finding himself no longer able to sleep, Booth padded out to his living room and pulled out his laptop. He did ,after all, still have a name to research.

* * *

The day passed with the usual bustle and rush as they all sought out answers in various places; they had yet to solve the mystery that was their case. Brennan was bent over the remains with Zach as they attempted to find something that they might have missed before; Hodgins was growing frustrated in his office while he once again failed to identify the foreign substance found on the victim; Angela was running the newly rendered video through her body recognition system; Cam was in her office comparing DNA samples; and Booth was visiting Lori at the psych ward to see if he could get any more information out of her. 

Another few hours passed by and the break they had been hoping for came in several forms. Unfortunately, the murderer turned out to be the man that Brennan was on a date with and Booth was then forced to arrest him in the middle of it; it tore at Booth's heart as Brennan fled the restaurant in tears.

* * *

Hodgins and Angela sat in front of her computer while the last bit of video played before them. He had used boredom as an excuse to spend time with her. 

"Thank you," she said softly.

He turned towards her and studied her face for a minute.

"For what?"

"You've been a really good friend to Brennan lately."

He smiled warmly at her.

"She's so different."

"Yeah. I still can't get my head around her being a profiler."

"How do you think Booth will take it?"

She paused and stared at the wall in deep consideration.

"He'll forgive her eventually."

"Good," Hodgins smiled. The air suddenly became serious as they exchanged a look and then they both turned back to the screen awkwardly. A minute passed before a shadowy figure appeared by a tree; it flickered and danced for a second and then it faded away, leaving the artist and the entomologist torpid.

"Could just be moonlight," he suggested, trying to swallow the lump of fear in his throat.

"Yeah, moonlight," Angela nodded unconvincingly. "Can I stay at your place tonight?"

"Sure."

* * *

"Booth," Brennan began as she straightened up and looked at him. 

"Hey, you're my partner. It's a guy hug," Booth said warmly as he opened his arms to her.

It was a lie and he knew it. _"Guy" hug, yeah, like the "professional" sex dream you had about her last night? _Still, he wanted to comfort her; OK, so maybe just wanted to hold her close to him. Despite his ulterior motives, he got his wish when she stepped closer and allowed herself to be encircled by his arms. He tightened his hold slightly as he felt her arms go around his waist and her chin rest on his shoulder. The small smile of contentment couldn't be helped.

* * *

Sorry, this chapter was just a little bit of filler...and sex dreams hehe, but reviews are still helpful!!! I'm starting on the next one now. Maybe if you all leave good reviews I can update again tonight cough cough. 


	10. Wiping the Slate Clean

OK, this is where it gets a little confusing, this first part is right after Howard Epps dies and then it's going to skip ahead to a new case with a certain FBI agent. Will she tell him? Will she not? Nobody knows...

* * *

The sight of Howard Epps plummeting to the sidewalk below the balcony would haunt him for the rest of his life. The moments where his body flailed through the air and then the sickening thud when he made contact with the pavement, the moment Booth's list grew a little longer. Fifty-one. He had killed fifty-one people. Fifty-one lives had been ended at his hand. Fifty-one families he had destroyed. Fifty-one bodies.

"Booth," her voice brought his depressed and deflated eyes up to make eye contact with her. "You didn't kill him."

Stunned, he narrowed his eyes and tried to remember if he had said his thoughts out loud.

"Bones, I-"

"You may think that you dropped him, but I saw it. You tried to save him," she spoke softly and soothingly as she leaned forward and took his rough hands in hers. "He's the one that let go."

"I don't- I just- I-" he stopped talking and silently cursed his inability to speak. The weight on his chest was just too much to handle. It was hard enough to keep breathing.

"Hey," she said, voice still warm and soft. "You're going to be OK."

* * *

She knew that he was aching inside and it made her soul cry for him; the look in his now glazed over told her that she needed to find something to say so that they could both heal. 

"Seeley," she breathed, bringing her free hand to stroke his cheek. Brennan brushed her thumb across his jaw and then felt him lean into her touch. He couldn't even meet her eyes anymore.

"I have something for you," she smiled sadly before rising from her seat, planting a chaste kiss on his temple, and walking into her bedroom to fetch a small velvet box that held a gift she had custom ordered from an old friend.

* * *

He stared at the chair that was now cold and empty in her absence. He still didn't understand how she could look at him like she had; she didn't look at him like a monster like so many others had, she looked at him like she was trying to tell him that she cared for him and would never leave. She told him through a single movement, a single look, that she accepted him. He looked up in time to see her heading back towards him, brushing a wisp of hair away from her face, carrying a box in her hand. After she was seated again, she looked up at him and began to speak. 

"Booth, I can't make this go away and I'm so sorry for that. If I could take this guilt from you then I would," she paused to once again take his hands. "But I know that this isn't just Epps. This is your entire list coming back to haunt you."

He nodded.

"'It's never just the one person' right?" she offered him a small smile. "Look, I'm not going to pretend to know what you're going through- I'm not you, I don't know that- but I do know what this guilt feels like."

"No, Bones, you don't-"

"You wake up sometimes and see blood on your hands and no matter how hard you scrub away at it, it won't fade. Other days you think you see them walking down the streets or down the hallways in your building. There are even some days when you can find similarities between yourself and the people we lock up for murder. Almost everyday you expect your friends to finally realize what you are and leave you."

Tears were burning his eyes like acid as he watched her composure slowly crumbling before him.

"Some days all you can see are the faces," he finished for her quietly, finding strength in her revelation.

"Booth, have you ever considered the guilt you would've had if you hadn't killed those men?"

"What?"

"Could you have lived with yourself if you saw the violence continuing, all those people being slaughtered, knowing that you could've prevented it?" she asked, her voice cracking under the heavy emotion.

"I didn't think of it like that," he confessed, turning his hands over to entwine their fingers.

"I bought this about a week ago," she smiled sadly. "I guess now would be a good time to give it to you."

She placed the box in the palm of his hand and then leaned back, removing all contact. He stared at the object before slowly lifting the lid. Inside, was a dog tag on a chain, similar to the ones he carried in the army. He looked up at her with a wary look and then lifted the metal tag out of its resting place; he held the silver in front of him and found the words "Tabula Rasa" engraved on one side.

"What does this mean?" he asked, almost fearing the answer. Would she hurt him? She looked at him with care and warmth in her eyes. A small, yet beautiful, smile appeared on her lips before she answered.

"It's a phrase in Latin," she paused. "It means 'clean slate'."

He looked up at her with glassy eyes and found himself drowning in his love for the woman sitting before him.

"Temperance," he whispered.

"You're going to be OK," she smiled at him as a tear escaped from the corner of her eye and tumbled down her face.

"Yeah?" he breathed.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

His face brightened noticeably and she grinned at him.

* * *

They moved to the couch and popped _To Kill a Mockingbird_ into the DVD player and settled into the couch, sitting about a foot away from each other to maintain professional distance. However, over the course of the film they somehow managed to shift closer and closer until Booth was leaning back into the cushions with one arm casually draped over the armrest and the other encircling Brennan, who was curled up in his lap while lightly dragging her nails up and down his forearm, unaware of the jolts of electricity that were shooting through his spine. He didn't know what possessed him to kiss the side of her head and bury his face in her hair, but she didn't seem to mind as she sighed softly and snuggled into his chest. 

"Thank you," he mumbled against her auburn locks.

"Anytime," she smiled. Brennan turned her head slightly so that she could look him in the eyes. They were both instantly aware of the lack of space between them. Booth's smile grew impossibly wider before he softly kissed her temple and settled them back into comfortable positions to finish watching the film.

* * *

Another week passed by and another case was hurled at the team; this one different from the others. The killer had accumulated a mass grave of about twenty women. Each woman had been eviscerated and carefully positioned in their graves. Everyone worked in overdrive and managed to find small clues, but they were still far from solving this case. Cullen grew impatient with their lack of progress and decided to call in another agent to help with the case. The agent had some experience with profiling and was all around a smart man. However, Cullen also knew that Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan would give him hell for it. 

She knew someone was approaching her from behind as she worked on the fifteenth set of remains; she concentrated her hearing on the figure that was slowly nearing. It didn't take long before she knew that it was the new guy. Without turning around or even looking at him, she called, "Agent Sullivan?"

He stopped at stared at her.

"You can call me Sully," he answered slowly. "How'd you know?"

"Booth wears an ankle holster."

"I am wearing an ankle holster."

She turned around and stared at him with intense irritation.

"He wears it on his right leg. Yours is on your left," she answered pointedly. He furrowed his brow and she could see him trying to figure out how she could tell.

"How- uh- How did-"

"What do you think I do for a living?" she snapped.

"Look, I'm just here to help with the case."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"I used to be a profiler. I'm used to this kind of stuff."

_No, Brennan, do not laugh. _

"Really," she scoffed before storming off to her office.

* * *

Booth looked up from his paperwork as Sully entered the office with an air of annoyance around him. He slammed the door shut behind him and glared at Booth. 

"You're partner is such a-" he stopped and clenched his fists.

"You'll get used to her."

"She's impossible."

"I know," Booth chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just let me handle her, OK? She doesn't like that people think she needs help."

"All right," Sully grumbled. "How do you put up with her?"

"You get used to it after a while."

* * *

Brennan let her head fall against the desk as she let out a shriek of pure frustration; she had figured out just moments before that she would have to profile this case instead of using anthropology. She hated it. 

"Damn it!" she yelled as she lifted her head and saw a shell-shocked Sully standing in her doorway.

"Hello to you too," he grunted as he made his way over to her desk to hand her some notes that he had put together.

"Sorry," she said sincerely, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. "I was a real bitch to you earlier."

"Eh, you weren't that bad," Sully shrugged casually as he sat down on the couch.

"Come on, just say it."

"I can understand why. I mean, I am kinda invading on your turf."

"That's not an excuse," she trailed off. "So, let's see what you got."

"Sorry, I know you hate psychology."

She raised an eyebrow at him and then began to speak.

"He's organized, which helps us. The unsub exhibits signs of a borderline personality disorder. There are no signs of sexual activity, so he is most likely making a statement."

"What statement?"

"He really doesn't like women and the best way to degrade and disfigure them is by cutting their internal organs out."

"I see," Sully said in awe, leaning back in his chair and listening to her.

"People with borderline personality disorders are very insecure and they are also highly sensitive to rejection. They are also prone to violent fits of rage and violence as well as self-mutilation. They like to be in control, they develop a comfort zone."

"Does he leave a signature?"

"Yeah. He keeps the hearts," Brennan nodded.

"I'm impressed," Sully smiled at her adoringly. "Would you like to grab some lunch to continue talking it over?"

She thought for a moment and decided it couldn't hurt.

"Sure," she smiled.

"Great. You can ride with me. I know this great little sandwich shop."

* * *

Days later, the tension between Booth, Sully, and Brennan was at its peak. Booth was finding himself more and more attracted to Brennan as well as less and less a part of her life. She had stopped spending time with him and he couldn't take it. Their table at the diner had been neglected and ignored as Booth had resorted to ordering pizza at his apartment and sulking. The sight of Sully hugging or, God forbid, kissing Brennan was enough to make him sick. _He_ was supposed to be doing that. However, he knew that he still had a place in her life when she would give him a flash of that gorgeous smile of hers or the brief "guy" hugs.

* * *

Sully was completely oblivious to the torture he was subjecting Booth to by telling him all about the amazing date he had with her the night before or how she was an amazing kisser. He would go on and on about how smart and beautiful she was and how she was so passionate about her work. No, Sully was ignorant to the pained look that flashed across Booth's face whenever the beloved anthropologist was mentioned.

* * *

Brennan was caught in the middle of both men. On one hand, Sully returned her feelings albeit more strongly than she did, but on the other hand, Booth was the one she was finding herself longing to be with. She shut down with Sully, putting up her "squint" front again and acting like she was socially awkward and pretending not to get his jokes, which weren't that funny to her even though she did understand them. Noticeable tension had risen between Booth and Cam; Brennan was worried that Booth's guilt was destroying their romantic relationship. She had purposely pulled away from Booth so that she wouldn't drive a wedge between them, but she had no idea that it was Cam and Sully who were driving wedges. Misery found company with loneliness and pining.

* * *

The three of them had finally reached a breaking point- at the same time in Booth's office as both agents saw a threat on Brennan's life when the killer had left a threatening note on her door. Naturally, they ordered her to go into protective custody or at least let one of them protect her, which of course spurred another argument as to who would protect her. Sully argued that he was her boyfriend and should therefore be granted the right to protect his girlfriend while Booth countered by saying that he was her partner and had known her longer therefore knowing her better and also being trusted more by her. Brennan had cut in by saying that she was independent and she could take care of herself; she couldn't help throwing the "alpha-male" lecture in both of their faces much to their annoyance.

* * *

Meanwhile, Quinn was standing outside with an amused look on his face as he listened to the three people scream and yell at each other. He couldn't help but chuckle softly at the odd looks given by the other agents passing by as they each silently wondered what was going on inside that office.

* * *

"I don't need your help! I never did!" she fumed at Sully. 

"Yeah, right. I was a profiler for two years, I knows these psychos better than you!" Sully yelled in return.

"Good morning, Moscow!" Quinn belted out in a comical voice as he made his entrance. Three heads whirled around to see him with three different reactions. Brennan was relieved, Booth was concerned for Sully, and Sully was confused and livid.

"Hi, Quinn-"

"Who the hell are you?" Sully growled at the intruder.

"I'm going to clarify a few things," Quinn announced coolly. "First of all, she really doesn't need your help. She's been profiling for ten years now and per usual she is one of our best. Second of all, she doesn't need your protection either. She's taken down men twice her size. Thirdly, you have only been out with her three times and have no right claiming her as your girlfriend."

Sully was in shock and Booth looked to Brennan for confirmation.

"Tempe, I'm going to be in town for a few days. Can I stay with you?" Quinn asked while successfully pissing Sully off even more.

Brennan knew that he was secretly asking to be her bodyguard.

"Sure," she smiled brightly.

"Oh, and I was able to triangulate your unsub's 'domain'."

"You asked for outside help on a case?!" Sully demanded.

"He's FBI and you're FBI. I don't really see a problem here, so you can pop the vein back into your forehead and _calm down_," she said pointedly, emphasizing the last two words.

"You know what? I'm not really in the mood for dinner tonight," Sully said coolly.

"You know what?" she mirrored his tone and posture. "I'm not really in the 'mood' to date you anymore."

There. She had done it. She had walked into that room with a relationship and now she was walking out single. Brennan was glad at that point that she hadn't given herself to him physically.

* * *

That night as he sat at his table with Cam next to him eating dinner, his thoughts remained on his partner; she was probably dressed in a t-shirt and jeans while she and Quinn watched a movie or pigging out on a ridiculous amount of sugar. He smiled nostalgically as he remembered the night just a few weeks ago when he had been a part of her life- a life he didn't even know about- and he loved every moment of it. A female voice cut off his thought process and brought him back to the table. 

"I see it," Cam said, studying his face.

"What? What are you talking about?" he was beyond confused. Had he missed something?

"You're in love with Brennan."

Booth choked on his food.

"What?!" he squeaked as soon as he had gotten the food out of his wind pipe and he was able to breathe again.

"You may not realize it now, but she's the one you should be with," Cam smiled sympathetically at him before standing, leaving a kiss good-bye on his forehead, and then leaving the apartment with her duffel bag in tow. Booth sat there for what seemed like an hour before springing from his seat and flying out the door.

* * *

Brennan was belting out "Everything is All Right" by Motion City Soundtrack with Quinn as they made pancakes in the kitchen; they had often performed this ritual when staying together and cooking together had become routine. They laughed together as the song ended and the room was left with only the sound of their laughter. Suddenly, Brennan stopped and whipped her head to look at the door. 

"What? What's wrong?" Quinn asked, following her gaze.

"Someone's at the door," she replied in a low voice, her field training kicking in full force as she stole across the apartment to glance through the peephole.

"It's Booth- hey, where are you going?" she demanded.

"I think he's got it covered," he gave her the "I know something you don't" smile.

"Dork," she muttered as she opened the door. She greeted her partner, who was acting odd, and let him enter the apartment. Quinn reentered the room with his bag slung over his shoulder and he gave a brief nod to Booth before stopping directly in front of him.

"You hurt her and your remains won't be identifiable," Quinn warned before smiling at both of them. "Have fun, guys!"

With that, he was gone.

* * *

Booth and Brennan stood awkwardly in the foyer, stealing glances at each other and then each focusing on the floor. Neither knew what to do; neither knew why it was suddenly awkward. 

"Hey, you want some pancakes?" she asked brightly before retreating to the kitchen and nervously getting two plates ready.

He felt his courage and nerve returning to him as she left him alone and was forced by aforementioned nerve to follow her. He watched her from behind for a moment as she raked her fingers through her hair. He had been somewhat right as to her attire. She was wearing black track pants that sat low on her hips with two skinny white lines of reflective material running up the sides of her long legs and she was wearing the matching jacket unzipped over a white camisole. Her found her as desirable, if not more, at that moment and he was having trouble controlling himself. Quietly, he crept up to her from behind and put both hands on either side of her on the counter, pinning her stomach loosely to the counter while his breath tickled her ear.

* * *

Her temperature began to skyrocket as he pressed himself against her back and just when she thought she could contain her desire to devour him, he began whispering in her ear. Her mouth went dry. 

"Cam and I aren't together anymore," he whispered huskily. "I'm yours for the evening."

She suppressed a groan at the words "I'm yours" and swallowed hard before turning around in his arms to face him. She inhaled sharply with one look into his eyes, now smoldering with passion. One of his hands came up to press against her back.

"Temperance," he sighed as he placed a feather-soft kiss on her jaw.

"Seeley," she said, voice trembling. "I have something I want to-"

She was interrupted by her front door flinging open and something rushing inside.

"Aunt Tempe?" a teenage girl called from the living room. "I need to talk to you!"

"Who's that?" Booth asked as he stepped away from her.

"Um, she's one of the kids I rescued from a pedophile about ten years ago. I'll be right back," she replied before stepping around him and walking into the other room. She found Lily, now eighteen and beautiful, sitting on her couch with her head in her hands. "Aunt Tempe" had been her name for Brennan ever since the scientist rescued her when she was eight and being repeatedly molested by her babysitter.

"Lily, what are you doing here?" Brennan asked softly.

"Does it stop?" Lily asked quietly, her voice raw with grief.

"Sweetheart," Brennan sighed as she sank into the couch and pulled the younger woman into her arms, softly rubbing her back while whispering reassurances in a motherly tone. Lily let a few tears slip from her eyes and sought comfort in Brennan's warm, loving embrace.

"I can still feel him. I can't make it stop."

* * *

Booth odd by watching his partner interact with the younger woman on the couch, treating her like her own daughter. This side of Brennan had never shown itself to him and he found himself falling for her faster and faster. She was a natural at it.

* * *

Two hours later, Brennan had soothed Lily's agony and had made sure she was OK to drive before letting her go back home. Only then, did Booth leave his post in the kitchen to join her on the couch. With one arm he pulled her into a side-hug and kissed the top of her head. 

"You did great," he mumbled into her hair while discreetly inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

"She's so strong. It's hard seeing her like that."

"How many other kids do you take care of?"

"There are fifty-two altogether, but only a dozen live in DC. They call me 'Aunt Tempe'."

He smiled and then reluctantly released her as she gently pulled away to face him.

"There's something I need to tell you."

"OK, what is it?" he asked curiously.

She took a deep, shaky breath.

"I joined the Marines when I was eighteen. I was one of their best snipers..."

_To Be Continued..._


	11. Brutally Honest

(cont'd)

Her story was swirling, buzzing, and bouncing around in his skull for a good fifteen minutes after she had finished with the first part. By this point, she was staring down at the floor while one guilty tear trailed down her face; eye contact had been severed after she had revealed the length of her own murder list. Forty-four. The woman he thought he was in love with had killed forty-four people. She had saved fifty-two children from terror and kept in contact with them to help them through the trauma- and that wasn't counting the adults. She was a profiler, a freelance agent sometimes used by the CIA, she had a license to kill and legal immunity, she had been tortured and brainwashed, she was a Christian, and she had been hiding this from him the whole time. This whole thing was beginning to make him dizzy and she wasn't even done yet. 

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he asked in raw emotion as angry tears burned his eyes. 

"I was on medical leave. I wasn't supposed to stay as long as I did." 

"What?" he exhaled heavily. 

"I was cleared a year and six months ago," she said in a small voice. 

Booth was hit with another wave of agony. Why did she have to make this harder on him?

"Why did you stay?" he felt stupid asking questions, but it was the only thing he could think of to say.

"Because you were the first person that I had ever saved." 

The pain in his chest only increased with heartache. 

"What?" he croaked, his ability to speak was quickly dissipating. 

"William Tothill, an enemy sniper, was sent to Serbia to terminate a man that had plans to assassinate one of his employers. I was ordered to execute him," she blew out a breath of air before continuing. "I found him on the rooftop with a sniper rifle ready to fire. He saw me, we fought, I killed him." 

"And?" 

"He had a picture of his target in his jacket. I was curious so I took it out and looked at it." 

His silence was expectant. 

"It was you." 

He stood up abruptly and turned his back to her.

* * *

All the things she had done, all the lives she had ruined, all the lies she had told Booth; they made her feel unclean and damaged. Brennan dragged her eyes to look at Booth through her own cloud of anguish and saw his shoulders tremble for a second. She just wished he would yell or scream at her because she would rather have him hate her than feel wounded by her; she promised herself that she wouldn't hurt him. Failure was a harsh word and, in this context, it was enough to kill her. 

"Were there ever any moments when you were really with me?" 

"Only the important ones," she whispered back.

* * *

He understood what she meant and the thought comforted him a little; her seeking refuge in his embrace when her mother was found, him giving her Jasper, air-guitaring in her apartment to Foreigner- all the special moments that he often looked back on were all real. Yes, this definitely lessened the blow. The question was: did she ever actually lie to him or did she just go on pretending with what he assumed? 

This whole thing was too much for him to handle; he couldn't breathe. Booth shook his head before practically sprinting out of the apartment.

* * *

�

Quinn couldn't say he was surprised when he saw Booth leaving the apartment looking like Brennan had shot him rather than tell him the truth; he sighed noisily as he went to go talk to him. He quickly crossed the street and jogged to catch up to the distressed agent. 

"She told you?" he asked.

"What do you want?" Booth snapped angrily, eyes suddenly flashing.

"Whoa, hey, I'm just here to make sure you don't do something stupid." 

"What?" 

"Do you think she enjoyed lying to you? Do you?" he challenged. "Because if you do then you're dumber than I thought." 

"Why's that! I don't know her at all!" 

"Yes! You do!" 

Booth stopped and suddenly couldn't find anything to reply back with. 

"You know that she's sensitive about her family and being abandoned. You know that it would kill her if you left her. You know that she's strong, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't want company. You know that she's a workaholic. You know that she forgets to eat," Quinn listed off easily. "But what you don't know is that she likes blasting her music while she works and when she gets frustrated she gets up and dances to it whether other people are or not. She loves candy and has a system to determine which candy she's going to eat depending on the case. She loves watching movies. She loves kids and she'll babysit Carrie's little girl every other weekend. But most of all, she loves _you_." 

"How am I supposed to get past this?" 

"Wait two months and if you're not in so love with her that it hurts, then you can transfer." 

Booth considered his offer before slowly nodding in compliance. 

"Good, now don't pay attention to the awkward tension that'll come. Just let her know that she can be herself without feeling too guilty," Quinn instructed to ensure the success of his plan. "Although don't be surprised if you catch her curled up on her couch eating chocolate." 

A small, almost nonexistent laugh escaped Booth's mouth despite his emotionally drained state. 

"Good luck, man," Quinn said before walking back to his car. "Don't worry, I'll be bodyguard!"

Booth nodded and let Quinn's advice sink in. A smile appeared on his lips as another piece of advice came back to him. 

"Tabula Rasa."

�

* * *

�

Hello, all! Sorry about this short one, but it wouldn't really work if it was any longer. Don't hate me too much. I promise it will eventually turn out okay. Please review and tell me what you think! 

�

* * *

�


	12. After You, Scully

Monday morning rolled around and Booth was dreading it; the weekend had been a whirlwind of emotions. He found himself hurt, angry, confused, curious, understanding, and worried, yet the whole time he found himself still in love with her. She lied, but he loved her. His mind was torturing him with conviction and challenge. A glimpse of her was given to her that night a few weeks ago as they redecorated her apartment. So, here's what he knew about who she really was: she was outgoing, she was bold, she was funny, she had a huge sweet tooth, she cooked a lot, she was laid back, and she was even more beautiful. The tattoo made a reappearance in his mind and he had to recite baseball stats for a minute in order to focus. So, that was it. He loved her still, although he didn't really know why. He should've seen this as a betrayal. He should be angry. He should hate her, but he didn't. It was frustrating to feel strangled by her secret and all he wanted to do was go to her for comfort. 

Booth straightened out his tie before heading into the Jeffersonian. This would be an interesting morning.

* * *

Unlike Booth, Brennan's mind hadn't been in overdrive that weekend; she had stayed in her pajamas and watched movies while spontaneously bursting into fits of cooking. She had gone through most of the dishes in her cookbook, which was good for her neighbors and friends. Angela had been over at her apartment frequently with Hodgins to try and console their friend, but she would just assure them that she was fine. None of them believed her, especially her designated bodyguard who had threatened to cut her off from coffee until she talked. But of course she countered it with the promise that she would stop cooking for him. 

Sensing that someone was watching her, Brennan instinctively turned her head and searched the lab for the source of her paranoia. She quickly found it in a pair of dark brown eyes that watched her intently, never breaking their stare. Booth. He was standing by her office with an unreadable expression on his face. Taking it as a signal to talk, she discarded her gloves and walked briskly across the lab to where he was waiting; the two partners entered her office in silence. 

Door locked and blinds closed, they turned toward each other to face the factor that could possibly end their relationship. They were both nervous and neither could muster up a sentence that would help relieve the awkward tension. So, she bit the bullet and opened her mouth. 

"I'm sorry," she blurted out quickly. "I had no right to keep that from you and you deserved to know especially since you almost died that day-"

"Bones."

"-and you're my partner, but I was just so irritated with you in the beginning-"

"Bones."

"-and I expected you to find that in my file but they must have-"

"Temperance!" Booth laughed at her babbling, finally ceasing her myriad of excuses and reasons. "You need to calm down." 

"Look, I know that you hate me. You don't have to stay here if you don't want to," she said, shame and guilt dripping from her voice. She couldn't even look at him anymore.

* * *

_What? Is that what she thinks? Well, can you blame her? You couldn't have left faster if the building was on fire. _

"But I need you to finish this case first, if that's OK."

"What are you talking about! Do you want me to leave?" he asked, once again feeling like she stabbed him in the gut with a serrated knife. 

"What? No! I thought that you wanted-"

"No, I don't want to leave," he cried out in frustration. 

"Why not!" 

"OK, am I missing something? Do you want me to want to leave!" 

"No! I just-"

"What! What am I supposed to do?" 

"I don't know!" she yelled as she slowly backed away from his slowly approaching figure. He wouldn't let her get too far away from him though and she figured that out as she hit the wall and was now trapped. 

"This isn't easy for me either, Temperance," he growled, eyes flashing and voice lowering to a husky rumble in his chest.

* * *

She could smell the coffee on his breath. He smelled like hazelnut and she found it deliciously attractive. Ignoring her desire for him, she continued to confuse him with her indecipherable speech.

"Why can't you just hate me?" she exhaled heavily, hanging her head. 

"Why would you want that?" he prodded, softening his voice. 

Brennan paused and met his eyes, suddenly realizing how close he was. Why was he doing this?

"Because," she paused to inhale painfully. "I'd rather see you angry than hurt."

He raised his head slightly to think over what she had said. 

"I can't hate you, Bones." 

"I'm such a jerk," she turned her head away from him and winced. 

"No," he raised a hand and gently turned her head back to make eye contact. "You were scared." 

"That's not an excuse." 

"Hey, I can't blame you. I mean, we didn't really get off to a great start and then it was probably too late to tell me after that without risk of me transferring." 

"Are you going to transfer now?"

* * *

He looked at her long and hard. Never had he seen so much regret in someone other than himself; her eyes had grown impossibly more expressive in the last few days and where there had once been liberated joy, there was fear and sadness and hope? 

"I'm going to wait two months before I decide," he replied honestly. 

She let out ragged breath. 

"You're a good man, Booth, but you don't deserve to be put through this." 

He looked at her before letting out a small laugh, which resulted in further scrutiny from the woman inches away from his face. 

"Why are you acting like you were sent to kill me or something?" he asked. "It's not you were really doing anything bad." 

"What? Booth, I've killed-"

"I know and if I can't forgive you for that then I can't forgive myself for doing the same thing." 

"You're right. I just don't know how to act anymore." 

He looked at her with the glint of loving fire that he used to.

"I want to see _you_."

* * *

She felt the worry melt away and leave her a hundred pounds lighter. A genuine smile crossed her face before her eyes met his, sparkling with their old mischievous gleam. 

"Well then," she grinned. "Shall we, Mulder?" 

"After you, Scully."

* * *

_I know it's another short one, but I'm just not really sure how to get to the next plot point. Would you guys hate me if I skipped ahead a month? reviews have been amazing and consistent_ **hint hint**. 


	13. New York?

Hello my children! I am back in black with the next chapter. Things have been kinda hectic here on my side of the pond, but there will be much excitement in upcoming chapters! hehe, I was feeling the need to add a little tension between our favorite non-couple. bwahaha! I'm eeeeeevil. Mucho thankos to all my amazing reviewers! I love you all in a completely friend-like way! 

* * *

One month later...

It had been days since they had received a case; the team had kept themselves somewhat busy in the absence of the rush to solve a homicide though there was always a few hours spent in the doldrums. Of course now Brennan had the chance to introduce the team to some games and pranks that she and Quinn had come up with during their spare moments at the BAU. This included hide and seek, paper wad tag, and moistening the backs of gummy bears and sticking them to random objects (light switches, paperweights, elevator buttons, and, if they were feeling particularly evil, lampshades). Brennan had even set up her own bowl of candy in her office which the team helped themselves to regularly.

* * *

Angela and Brennan sat on the couch in the anthropologist's office as they sipped coffee and shared in their usual "girl talk". Events had been retold and laughed about while others were rewarded with a sad sigh and some well-thought out advice. After a good dose of caffeine, they cautiously approached the subject of Booth and Quinn. 

"I haven't seen either of them in awhile. I miss those guys," Brennan added with a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, that Quinn guy is _hot_!" Angela drawled. 

"He's great." 

"So, tell me, what's going on with Booth? How's he taking it?" 

"Oh, I don't know. He seems OK with it, but-"

"You feel that there's still something wrong?" 

"Yeah," Brennan sighed. "I mean, we haven't really talked to each other in the last few weeks."

"You need to talk to him." 

"I know." 

"Why don't you go over there tonight and ask him if he wants to hang out?"

"That sounds good. Yeah, I'll do that," she nodded. "Thanks Ange." 

Angela leaned over and hugged her friend briefly before leaning back again. 

"How's it going with Hodgins?" the sly comment came through a mouthful of skittles.

Angela's eyes widened and she gaped at her friend. 

"W-what? Why would there be anything going on with Hodgins?" she stammered nervously. 

"Oh, I don't know," Brennan shrugged coyly. "maybe it's just that you two have been ogling each other." 

Angela choked on her coffee.

"What!" she sputtered. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were so uncomfortable with the obvious," Brennan teased. 

"Bren, I-"

"It's OK. I won't tell anyone," she assured her friend as she got up and sauntered out of the office, but not before another shot. "I don't have to." 

"Bren!" Angela squealed in embarrassment, desperately trying to cover her reddened face. The only response that came was the sound of Brennan laughing.

* * *

It turned out that Brennan didn't have to wait for evening to come before she got to see her partner; they were both called into Cullen's office for the briefing on a new case. Both were nervous as this procedure strayed from their usual protocol, but neither showed their uneasiness as they sat in front of Cullen's desk. The senior agent eyed both of them sternly and then began. 

"I have been informed of your status within the Bureau, Dr. Brennan." 

Booth winced at his boss's sharpened tone, but Brennan stared him down instead. 

"OK," she shrugged. 

"I was also informed that you will be returning to the BAU soon." 

Booth's chest constricted at the words. _She wouldn't leave me, would she? _

"That's incorrect, sir. I have made no decision towards the matter." 

"I want you to know that I expect a full month's notice before you choose to leave the Jeffersonian."  
"I want you to know that I don't work for you and I am not obligated to inform you of my decision whatsoever," she said as she put him back in his place. "but I am feeling very generous and will do as you asked." 

"I appreciate it." 

"You're welcome," she nodded. "Now, why don't you tell us about this case which you so kindly dragged me away from my lab for." 

Booth was impressed with her cool exterior; she had always been uncomfortable around his boss and now here she was keeping him in line. Her tone was strong and confident, but warning at the same time. The scientist told the director that she could and would rip him a new one if he insulted or irritated her again. The older agent had backed off considerably, but without giving up his calm control. The younger agent turned back to his boss with full attention placed in what their assignment was. It took about a minute before Booth knew this was going to be interesting.

* * *

Their mission was to go to New York City undercover as soon-to-be newlyweds; they were to investigate the murders of young women who all happened to work for the same man, Matthew Chase. He was the head of a very successful law firm who apparently had a reputation for their disappearing interns. 

"We've set up an apartment for you. You have the first few days to get a feel for the place. You leave in an hour," Cullen finished before dismissing the pair with a nod and a wave of his hand. 

They exited the office together and didn't speak until they were in the elevator. 

"So, undercover," Booth nodded casually.

"Yeah," she smiled. "I like New York."

* * *

sooooo, what did you think? Do tell! 


	14. Very Happy

"_Yeah," she smiled. "I like New York." _

They stood awkwardly in the foyer of "their" apartment. It was a one bedroom, one bath with a beautiful view of Central Park; it was decorated with nice suede furniture and a large, flat screen TV (much to Booth's approval). The kitchen was equipped with stainless steel utensils and cookware, which suited Brennan, and the bedroom was made up of a nice king-sized bed with a white, feathered and down duvet with matching pillows; there was a bay window that captured the view of the park between its creamy white curtains. 

"So," she said awkwardly. "this is nice." 

"Yeah," he agreed slowly. "it's nice." 

She glanced up at his face for a minute to gauge his mood; his clenched jaw with a furrowed eyebrow. He was tense and nervous, but the good thing was that he didn't seem angry. 

"Are you hungry?" Brennan asked, catching his attention and causing him to make eye contact. 

"Sure," he smiled politely. "What did they leave us with?" 

"Well, I gave them a list-"

"Of course you did." 

"And I don't think they would risk my anger by deviating from my instructions." 

"Why's that?" he asked teasingly as they dropped their bags in the bedroom and ventured out to the kitchen.

"Because they're whipped," she stated proudly with a definitive nod. 

He laughed heartily at her comment when she made a fist and made a whipping motion with her hand, which she returned with a grin.

* * *

About fifteen minutes later, they were sitting down at the table with a steaming dish of macaroni and cheese that Brennan had made from scratch. He took the first bite and immediately decided that he would never be satisfied by any other kind of pasta ever again; he looked up and her with dark adoration. 

"You like it?" she asked, raising her own bite to her perfect mouth. 

"I'd like to be alone with it," he couldn't help the sexy half-grin from creeping onto his face. 

She stopped and looked at him. 

"That was creepy, but thanks!" 

"You're welcome to creepy comments anytime, Bones," Booth chuckled.

* * *

Half an hour later, they were sitting on the couch- maintaining professional distance of course- watching a movie that was being shown on cable, however they weren't paying much attention to the screen. No, the partners were much too busy trying to plan their schedule for the upcoming days that were meant for them to become situated in their new environment. Booth seemed to be having more trouble with the adjusting aspect of their mission due only to the fact that she was better informed, having received a primitive profile of Chase, and therefore she held more control over the case. He didn't care for the BAU giving her the upper hand. 

"What should we do tomorrow?" she asked, tucking her feet in under her. Holding her chin with one hand, propped up against the arm rest, she turned her eyes to flicker over his face before meeting his eyes. 

"I don't know. Do you want to check out the neighbors?" 

"Yeah, there's a couple living across the hall. They seem clean for the most part, but they're pretty deep in the social circle. I think that's the best way to get to Chase. We could meet for drinks and then I could ask for a job." 

"No," Booth shook his head vehemently. "You're not going in there where I can't protect you." 

She eyed him for a long moment as she tried to figure out how he could still be protective over her. An assumption had formed in her mind that he only did that because he thought she had no experience in the field. According to her hypothesis, he should be OK with her in dangerous situations, shouldn't he? The more troubling part of this equation was that she actually liked the idea of having someone there to take care of her. 

"I'll be fine."

"But I'll be worried."

"Booth-"

"No, you're not doing it." 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "but that's part of the job." 

He turned and looked at her with pain in his eyes. 

"I won't let them hurt you." 

"I know and that's why I chose you to come with me," she said sweetly before uncurling herself and sauntering off into the bedroom. 

Booth's jaw dropped as he watched her disappear into the darkness of the bedroom; he realized now that she was full of surprises. Springing to his feet, he jogged after. He entered the room to find her unpacking and setting her clothing inside the dresser.

"What do you mean you 'chose' me?" 

Brennan straightened her back and looked at him. 

"My old boss, Johnson, asked me if I would rather go with Quinn or you, so I picked you," she shrugged. His eyes widened with shock. 

"What?" she demanded self-consciously. 

"Nothing, I-I just thought that- you know, since he's your friend and all-"

"You're my friend too, Booth." 

His heart swelled and he looked at her adoringly; she smiled softly at him and then they both looked away awkwardly.

* * *

The next morning, Booth awoke to a sharp knocking on the door. He had slept on the couch the night before in order to avoid any embarrassing incidents with his partner; Booth was well aware that he sometimes talked in his sleep and with the recent dreams of a "certain nature" that he decided against taking the risk. He looked through the peephole and saw a middle-aged woman holding a foil-covered dish in her hands. Not remembering that he was only dressed in an undershirt and boxers, he opened the door and greeted his new neighbor with a groggy smile. 

Brennan woke up to the sound of knocking mere seconds after Booth; she listened for a minute and panicked when the woman made a comment about the evidence of Booth's spending the night on the couch. She flew out of bed and ran over to Booth's side of the closet. 

"Well, I- um," Booth stammered. It was too early for interrogation and he hadn't had any coffee yet. 

"Sweetie, you need to apologize to your girl or you'll be sleeping on that couch for a long time," the woman warned seriously. "It isn't healthy for-"

"Baby, who's at the door?" came Brennan's voice from behind him, coated with drowsiness. Booth turned as Brennan padded over to him and he could've sworn that in that moment his heart stopped. Her auburn locks were tousled around her face and she was wearing nothing except for his white Oxford shirt that fell at the tops of her thighs and, to top the incredible sexy-as-hell look, she was wearing a pair of his multi-colored striped socks. 

He was stunned, but she simply wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned into his chest with her other hand resting on his chest. 

"I just thought it would be best if he got at least a _few_ hours of sleep last night," she winked suggestively at the woman. "It's safe to say I was _very_ happy about the apartment." 

Booth swallowed hard; he was having difficulty concentrating when she was rubbing slow, sensual circles across his chest with her hand. 

"Good for you, Honey," the woman smiled slyly. 

"Oh, it was _very_ good for me," Brennan purred, curling in tighter to Booth and resting her head in the crook of his neck. 

"All right, well I just came by to welcome you to the building. I brought you some brownies."

"Thank you so much!" 

"Well," the woman said, handing over the dish. "I'll leave you two alone." 

"Thanks again! Bye," Brennan trailed off as Booth closed the door. They instantly jumped apart as though they had been burned. 

"Sorry," she winced guiltily. "We really need to sell this whole couple thing."

"Yeah, I'm just a little- uh- surprised," he cleared his throat as he once again looked her over. She squirmed under his appreciative stare and then she quietly excused herself to the bedroom to change back into her clothes. The shirt was returned to his suitcase, but she stopped when she was about to strip off the socks. Why not see how far she could take this? Brennan grinned smugly to herself and then pulled on a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and a tank top. They weren't leaving for awhile, so she had some time to relax in her sweats. 

Joining Booth in the kitchen as he searched for some breakfast, she went around him and gathered up a few eggs as well as the package of bacon left for her. She set up a pan and began cooking, leaving Booth staring at her incredulously. 

"I was going going to make breakfast," he stated simply. 

"Yeah, but I'm just feeling a little anxious." 

"What does that have to do with breakfast?" 

"I have this weird habit of cooking or baking whenever I'm upset or angry or sad about something. In this case, I'm restless, so here I am- making breakfast."

He leaned against the counter and studied her as her hands quickly cracked each egg with precision and threw the shells into the trashcan. She went through all the motions and then she was adding different spices and herbs to season the eggs and bacon to her preference. 

"I thought you were a vegetarian," he chuckled softly. 

"Only sometimes," she mumbled in a voice that reminded him of a child. Her face was soft and peaceful as the catharsis of cooking relaxed away her tension; Booth could see the slow change in her stance and movement. Watching her cook was entrancing, her appearance bewitching, and her movements enthralling. Booth leaned a fraction closer and caught a glimpse of the cursed and beloved tattoo; he immediately reacted to it. Booth mentally slapped himself before rushing off in the direction of the bathroom. 

"Booth?" Brennan called after him. 

"I need to take a shower!"

* * *

I am begging you for reviews!


	15. Pancakes

Disclaimer: "For the last time, officer, these aren't mine! I don't own any of it!" 

reviews are appreciated and will be rewarded with Jedi mind cookies!

* * *

"Oh, God, **_Seeley_**!" her raw, passionate cries of pleasure echoed off the bedroom walls and only aroused him further as her nails raked across his bare back, pulling him against her.

Booth awoke with such a start that he fell out of bed. _Bed? I was asleep with her in the bed? SHIT! Did she hear me?_ He stood up and nearly collapsed with relief when he found the bed empty. Then, he heard Brennan's dulcet voice singing the chorus of a song coming from the other room. Quietly, he stole across the living room to listen to her singing; it was a song that he had heard only once on the radio. 

_Simply knowing you exist ain't good enough for me  
But asking for your telephone number  
seems highly inappropriate_

_Seeing as I can't  
even say hi  
when you walk by_

_And that time you shook my hand it felt so nice  
I swear I've never felt this way about any other guy  
and I don't usually notice people's eyes but.._

He slowly rounded the corner to see her slowly dripping pancake batter into the pan where it spread out into an even circle as sizzled as it slowly cooked. 

_I conducted a plan  
To bump into you most accidentally  
but  
I was walking along  
and I bumped into you  
much more heavily than I'd originally planned.  
It was well embarrassing and  
I think you thought that I was a bit of a twat_

_I just think that we'd get on_  
_Oh I wish I could tell you face to face_  
_instead of singing this stupid song_  
_but yeah I just think that we might get on_  


She turned to smile at him, but surprisingly she kept singing as she turned back to the breakfast she was preparing. Booth walked up behind her and let her voice wash over him in a lullaby he would never get over. 

_  
So I went to that party  
everyone they were kind of arty  
And I was wearing this dress  
'cause I wanted to impress  
But I wasn't sure if I look my best  
'cause I was so nervous  
But I carried on regardless  
strutting through each room  
trying to find you_

_And when I saw you kissing that girl  
My heart, it shattered  
and my eyes, they watered  
and when I tried to speak I stu-uttered_

His hand, acting on its own accord, came up and rubbed up and down her arm; he silently delighted in the tremor shooting through her body and the goosebumps that resulted from it. Still, she continued. 

_  
And my friends were like "Whatever,  
you'll find someone better,  
his eyes are way too close together  
and we never even liked him from the start.  
And now he's with that tart,  
I heard she'd done some really nasty stuff  
down in the park with Michael.  
He said she's easy  
and if your guys with someone who's sleazy  
then he ain't worth your time  
cause you deserve a real nice guy"_

_So I proceeded to get drunk and to cry  
and I locked myself in the toilets for the entire night_

She flipped the pancake out of the pan and onto the plate resting next to the stove and then she sang the ending verse. 

_Saturday night, I watch Channel 5  
I particularly like CSI  
I don't ever dream about you and me  
I don't ever make up stuff about us  
that would be classed as insanity_

_I don't ever drive by your house to see if you're in  
I don't even have an opinion on that tramp  
that you are still seeing_

_I don't know your timetable  
I don't know your face off by heart  
but I must admit that there is a part that still thinks  
that we might get on  
that we could get on_

_that we should get on _

"Good morning," he smiled softly at her. 

"Hey," she grinned back. 

"I didn't know you could sing like that, Bones."

"You haven't seen anything yet. Here, try these," she said as she put a plate of the hot, golden disks in his hands. "There's syrup over there and butter next to it." 

"Like the sound of that," he muttered playfully as he took his food to the table along with the syrup and butter to satisfy his hunger. 

Brennan smiled to herself as he sat down at the table and dug into his food with vigor; she wondered how anyone could be so hungry so often. Rolling her eyes at her partner, she turned back to the breakfast in progress. 

"We expecting company?" he called from the dining room. 

"What?"

"What's with all the food?" 

"This is just in case I start craving pancakes tonight." 

"Pancakes at night?" 

She walked out of the kitchen and looked at him with mock offense. 

"It is never too late for pancakes," she told him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world before walking back into the kitchen.

He jolted back in his seat as the image of her tattoo showed through her thin, white shirt; he swallowed hard and looked straight ahead as he tried to control the heat wave his body was subjected to. Why was he so turned on by this? He had seen women with tattoos before, how should this be any different? He suddenly felt as if she were doing this on purpose. It was like she was purposely seducing him to test his self control. But this was Bones, she wouldn't be that cruel... or would she? He looked at the kitchen and then his jaw dropped with realization. She was messing with him. 

And two could play at that game.


	16. Fire With Fire

Brennan shot Booth a smile as she sat down next to him at the table; he eyed her suspiciously and then he grinned to himself. Yes, he had a plan and found it to be worthy of her cunning and genius.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked.

"Hm? Nothing," he replied brightly, taking another bite of his breakfast.

"OK," she nodded. "How's the food?"

"Good. You never cease to amaze."

"And don't you forget it," she winked playfully. _It's now or never_, Booth thought smugly as he stood up and went into the kitchen to refill his drink. He reemerged with a large glass of orange juice. A few steps and a staged trip later, the front of Brennan's shirt was soaked with the drink, causing the material to stick to her chest and abdomen.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry," Booth muttered apologetically as he grabbed a napkin and pressed it to her shirt in order to "help" soak up the moisture. The muscles in her torso tensing only drove him to drag out his torture. He slowly wiped it across her stomach and only when he began sliding the cloth upwards did she flinch and pull back a little bit.

She knew. She knew what he was doing and she wasn't going to let him get away with it. Pulling back slight, she looked him in the eye before speaking.

"I should stick this in the wash," she murmured huskily before rising from her chair and stripping the shirt off. Booth immediately stood up to look her in the face and struggled to keep his composure. The opportunity to taunt him further was too great and too sweet to pass up.

"You got it all over me," she said distantly as she looked down at her sweatpants. Brennan glanced up at him for a split second and saw that he was sweeping his gaze across her torso appreciatively; she grinned inwardly and then stripped her pants off with one fluid motion.

Booth's mouth went dry as he was acutely aware of his partner's lack of clothing. There she was, Temperance Brennan, standing before him in a black lace bra and matching panties. Never in all his life had he wanted a woman as badly as he did right then. _She's testing you. Keep it together, Seel._ He looked back up to her face and coolly knelt down to innocently dab at a non-existent spot of orange juice on her thigh. His eyes traveled vertically to meet her hazy sapphires. Breathing became harder for the both of them as their lungs struggled to inhale oxygen, but only filled with lust for the other. He shivered slightly and brushed his fingers across the warm and tempting skin of her thigh, only arousing the pair further.

They realized that their plans had backfired.

Brennan could see the hungry lust cloud over his gaze so that his eyes smoldered with passion and fire for her. Her breath hitches and suddenly remembers as his mouth unconsciously moves closer to her thigh, that they weren't allowed to do this.

"I'm going to go wash these," she squeaked.

"Yeah, I need some more- uh- drink," he replied as they both scuttled away from the scene of the crime. Today was going to be rough.

When you fight fire with fire, things tend to get a little hot.

* * *

Hey guys!! How'd I do with this one?? Sorry about it being so short but I'm working on it!


	17. Bed Head

A few days later...

Booth was bored out of his mind until Brennan returned to their apartment after a day of job interviews. That boredom, however, was coupled with worry as he remembered who his partner could soon be working for. New bodies had been discovered and the killer was escalating; he was killing again sooner and with more violence. And Brennan could be his next.

It was safe to say that he nearly melted with relief at the sight of her. Booth sprang from the couch and was instantly asking her questions and helping her with the large grocery bags that were piled in her arms.

"Are you OK?"

"Are you?" she chuckled. "Calm down, Booth, I'm fine."

"All right. I was just-"

"I know and I want you to know that I'm going to be fine."

"OK."

"OK," she smiled softly, flattened her palm against the side of his face for a painfully small moment, and then she turned and walked into the bedroom. He sighed to himself and willed the burning ache that she left on his face to go away.

What had possessed her to touch his face? The answer was beyond Brennan as she changed into a casual t-shirt and jeans; her fingertips still held the sensation of his skin and they longed to rejoin themselves with his face- or arms, chest, hands, or even- w_hoa, Temperance, keep it G-rated while he's here._ She walked back out through the living room to find Booth heating some cartons of Thai food in the microwave; her eyes traveled from the appliance to her partner with a slightly questioning gaze.

"It came about an hour ago and I didn't know-" he was cut off by Brennan planting a sweet kiss on his cheekbone.

"Thank you. I'm starving," she grinned before turning back to the food.

"Yeah," he smiled shyly. "Anytime."

Late that night...

She had fallen asleep an hour before and Booth had been watching her sleep for the past hour, memorizing every detail of her face and every movement that she made. It never failed to amaze him how intoxicating and beautiful his partner was. _Partner_. **Partner**. His partner. No, the word stung no matter how he said it. It was that damn word that formed a barrier between them. He hated the word because it was a wall that he couldn't climb and more importantly, he didn't even know if anything awaited him on the other side.

A gentle stirring caused him to focus back on the fact that, for now, he could stare at her with love on his face as if she was his. For now, he could pretend...until she whimpered in her sleep and ripped the fantasy away from him. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes concentrated on her face as he tried to determine whether she was having a nightmare or not.

She wasn't.

The whimper that he'd heard quickly morphed into a deep, throaty moan- a sound that would haunt him. He froze, but he couldn't look away.

"Booth," she whispered softly. He hoped she was awake; however, she wasn't. Yeah, she was definitely having a sex dream about him.

"_Shit_," he growled- half frustrated, half aroused- and rolled onto his side so that his back was facing her. He couldn't watch her anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't listen to her dream about him.

"Mmmm," her sigh turns into a question and he knows she is awake. _And we wait for the awkward greeting..._

Sure, she was embarrassed about having an erotic dream about him while he was sleeping next to her, but it didn't stop her from smiling and saying, "Good morning" before stretching and wiping the last remnants of sleep from her eyes as if she had been doing it for years. His expression was almost laughable and knowing that he had witnessed her in that humiliating state did nothing to relieve her tension. So, she did something that would hopefully take his mind off of it.

Brennan leaned forward slightly, raised her hand and ruffled his hair. He looked genuinely confused and surprised, but he didn't move or stop her.

"What was that?" his eyes glinted with questions and mischief at the same time.

"You're cute with bed head," she smiled sweetly before hopping out of bed and sauntering into the bathroom to take a shower.

* * *

WOOHOO SPRING BREAK!! Ahahahahahaha!! I'm elated, but I'm still suffering with writer's block. Don't worry, I'll update soon with some more of the case and maybe a little fluff, but in the meantime I NEED REVIEWS!!


	18. Dinner and Dancing

Brennan had never seen Booth look so incredible in her entire life. They were currently sitting across the table from her new "boss", Matthew Chase, and his wife to celebrate her employment at the law firm, which of course Booth was less than pleased with. The couple invited them to dinner at one of the most sophisticated and upper-class restaurants in New York and the partners were dressed to the nines. Booth was dressed in a tuxedo that the FBI had, at her request, paid for and it fit him perfectly; however, it was the shoulder holster beneath the jacket that held her attention. No one else could see it, but she knew it was there and she found it difficult to keep her hands to herself; her cover as his fiance once again proved useful as she was able to touch him every chance she got. But it wasn't like he held back either. The touching began when he intertwined their fingers as they entered the room and then she pulled herself into his side and when they reached the table she snaked her arm around his lower back and under his arm so that she could snuggle into his chest before smiling sweetly and...giggling? Well, she was supposed to act like a woman in love and giggling was something lovesick people do, right?

Brennan turned back to the conversation just in time to hear Booth shamelessly compliment her fake line of work and she only improved on the act further by blushing... only she wasn't acting. She was actually blushing as she listened to Booth talk about her with palpable love and adoration in his voice.

"She's really the most amazing thing I've ever seen," he said softly, looking over at her with that boyish sparkle in his eyes while brushing a feather-light kiss over her knuckles. "I really don't know what I've done to deserve her."

Brennan cursed herself as she only blushed again.

It was embarrassing to admit, but Booth had never been so honest out loud before; he wondered if his Bones took his declaration as an act or an actual truth. He hoped for a moment that she finally realized that he was secretly aching for her, but then he remembered that it was Brennan and, agent or no agent, she thought that it was all an act.

He turned and looked at her once again as she answered Chase's questions. She looked amazing and his mouth had been afflicted with a constant lack of moisture even since she stepped out of the room and asked him if she looked OK. Brennan was dressed in a deep red halter dress that was made of gossamer lace flowing down from a collar of the red silk and falling over heavy silk once it reached the top of her chest where the dress continued to cascade down her perfect figure and hug her feminine curves. Her hair was loosely pinned up in an updo with a few wisps falling beside her face; her makeup was brushed on to accent her blue eyes and lip gloss only made her lips more tempting. It was no wonder that he kept his hands on her at all times.

"So," Chase's wife said, leaning forward with deep fascination. "when are you two lovebirds getting married?"

Brennan simply smiled lovingly at Booth and answered.

"We were thinking December," she said with such nonchalance that Booth almost believed her.

"Oh, that's nice. May I ask why December?"

Booth felt her squeeze his hand a little tighter as she tensed slightly; he was about to interject, but she continued on with the lie with another burst of cool confidence.

"It's the anniversary of when we met."

"That's sweet," the woman smiled through bright red lipstick.

"How did you two meet?" Chase asked curiously.

"Do you want to tell them or should I?" Booth asked, joining the conversation again.

"Why don't you, Baby? You tell it better than I do," Brennan smiled sweetly and nudged his shoulder playfully.

"Well," he turned back to the Chases. "it was snowing that day and I was walking across the Yale campus. I wasn't watching where I was going and I ran straight into her. She looked so beautiful with snow in her hair and her pink cheeks- I knew that I was going to marry her."

"That's adorable," Mrs. Chase cooed.

"Yeah, he is," Brennan breathed so softly that only Booth heard it. She linked her arm with his and rested her head on his shoulder, close enough that he could smell her shampoo.

A silence swept over the table that was speckled with a few comments about the food and the wine. Matthew Chase stole a few glances at Brennan, which of course Booth was aware of, and then suddenly asked her to dance.

"We might as well get to know another," was his excuse.

Brennan gritted her teeth and then agreed with a forced politeness before she allowed herself to be led out onto the dance floor. Chase put his hand dangerously low on her waist and pulled her close to him. It was obvious she was uncomfortable due to how her arms went stiffly around his neck.

Brennan took an immediate disliking to the man as he gently swayed them back and forth. Really, everything about him bothered her; his hair looked like he hadn't showered in days, his eyes were too close together, it was obvious that he used Rogaine as well as teeth whitening strips, his tie was a clip on, his ears and feet were abnormally huge, and he smelled like he had drenched his body with an entire bottle of cologne that went bad in the 60's. It was settled; Brennan hated the man.

He pulled her flush against him and her nose was once again filled with the caustic stench as he told her how excited he was to be working with someone so... qualified. She nodded and her fingers tensed as if she were preparing to punch him- it wasn't too far of a leap, she really did want to punch him, but she wasn't about to blow her cover.

"Your fiance seems nice."

"He's really great."

It wasn't a lie.

"You two seem to be a match made in heaven," he said with the faintest hint of disgust.

"I don't know what I'd do without him," she sighed dreamily, over emphasized intentionally just to annoy Chase further. Maybe if she came off as too "mushy" he would finally be disgusted enough to leave her alone.

They danced for another minute before Brennan found out how long Booth could stand her dancing with a possible serial killer. Turns out, not very long.

"May I cut in?"

She didn't care if he was being possessive; she would wear a "property of Seeley Booth" sticker on her forehead as long it got her away from _him_.

"Of course," Chase smiled curtly before letting Booth take his spot.

"Sorry about that, you just looked a little-"

"Uncomfortable? Repulsed? Ready to shoot myself? Yeah, a little bit," she laughed softly at the end.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm OK- but I might need to shower a few times before I can feel clean again."

Booth chuckled at her statement and then grew painfully aware of the vast expanse of bare skin that the dress left exposed as his hands came to rest on her lower back. Her arms tightened around his neck and soon she was pressed fully against him. The pair swayed back and forth gently as they wrapped themselves in a lover's embrace and closed their eyes to savor the moment. With her head resting against his shoulder, he was once again rewarded with a whiff of her shampoo.

"I hate him," she murmured, causing him to open his eyes and grin.

"Me too."

"Do we have to stay?"

Booth shot a discreet look at Chase and his wife; they seemed preoccupied with a discussion.

"Yeah, let's go," he whispered into her hair.

* * *

As they left the restaurant, Brennan stopped suddenly and grabbed Booth's arm to get his attention. He turned and looked at her questioningly.

"The valet's gone," she said quietly.

"So? We can find our own car, Bones," he laughed teasingly at her.

"No," Brennan shook her head. "We can put a trace on his car."

The opportunity was too great to pass up.

"Let's go."

* * *

The GPS tracker that Brennan had brought in her purse had just been placed on the underside of the bumper when Booth spotted the Chases walking toward them.

"Bones," he hissed, directing her gaze towards the suspect. Luckily, they hadn't been spotted and they had a moment, however small, to come up with a plan.

"Booth, don't freak out," Brennan warned before she grabbed him by his collar and crushed his mouth against hers while slamming her back into the car behind them, pulling him against her. His momentary shock disappeared instantaneously and he responded aggressively. He opened his mouth and slid his hands over her hips; Booth took advantage of her sharp gasp to slide his tongue into her mouth and carry out his dream of kissing her. His mind went completely blank and soon his body acted purely on instinct. The hunger wasn't one way, though, and that became apparent as her hands roamed his broad chest, her tongue brushed over his, and her teeth playfully nipped at his lower lip. A low, lust-filled growl emitted from his throat when her knee lifted to brush against his inner thigh. They could no longer resist the desire and emotions suppressed for two years of being "just partners". The kiss was filled with raw passion mixed with love and affection at the same time- and all too real.

"Maria, Brandon?"

They pulled apart, eyes glazed over in result of their activities and they turned to look at Mrs. Chase, who was smirking at catching them in the act of nearly having sex on top of a car.

"Hi, Mrs. Chase," Brennan smiled guiltily.

"It's OK, Dear. I understand," the woman nodded before the younger couple nearly sprinted away.

* * *

Booth's insides were still throbbing to the point of being painful when they reached the apartment. God, how he wanted to continue their little "activity". He wanted to rip off that dress that had turned his partner into an irresistible seductress. He wanted to kiss her until she forgot her own name. He wanted-

"I'm sorry about that," she winced as she turned to face him once the door was locked.

_Ouch_, he inwardly cringed when his heart fell into his shoes.

"Huh?" he asked lamely.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there uh- against the car," she added awkwardly.

"No, it's fine you were-" _Oh my God, she's not wearing a bra!_ "just doing your job."

"Yeah," she gulped before turned and fleeing into the bedroom.

That was when he decided to do something about wanting something he couldn't have; Booth was in love with her and it was about time he showed her. After all, actions speak louder than words.

* * *

how'd I do with the kiss scene? huh HUH?? You guys know the drill


	19. Show Me

Brennan stood in the middle of the room, frozen out of pure shock; she was mentally backhanding herself and trying to figure out how she could possibly work with him and be professional when all she could think about was his mouth threatening to push her over the edge and his hands raking across her bare back. A shiver shot down her spine as the memory of his touch scorched her entire body. It was clear as day that shoving her tongue down his throat was a bad idea and yet she still grabbed him the first chance she got. Stupid didn't even begin to cover her actions- she was sure that he could tell how badly she wanted him.

Booth's predatory gaze fixed on her figure as he took a moment to appreciate her perfect body the way the dress intended. He could see her shoulder blades move beneath her porcelain skin as she tensed; he could also see the very tip of the tattoo. Finally, she turned towards him when he was less than a foot away. Now, his face was only an inch away from hers. Their breath mixed between them and her eyes searched his face.

"I'm not that good at acting and you talk in your sleep," he whispered huskily as he flashed her a seductive grin.

"I need to do something about those dreams," she raised her head defiantly. Her eyes swirled over with rapacity and he wondered how much longer she would tease him.

"But that would mean that I would have to take care of mine," he breathed.

Brennan couldn't believe how uninhibited her partner was being; her breathing became labored as a storm began to brew behind his velvet eyes. The storm she knew was mirrored in her own. What was he doing? Did he know what he was doing to her?

"What are you saying?" she asked, not that she cared at that point but it was still good to know what his intentions were.

"I'm saying that if you don't want me to take you right here and now and for the rest of your life then tell me and I'll stop and blame it on the adrenaline."

What did they put in that wine?

"Just be careful, I like this dress."

He growled and then he lowered his mouth to plant sensual, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw until he decided he didn't want to be nice anymore and nipped at her skin. She arched into him and grasped his shirt to pull him closer. His hands slid around her waist and travelled down to drag across her thighs and her ass. Brennan gasped as his teeth gently dug into a sensitive spot on her throat and she threw her head back in pleasure. She could feel him smiling to himself against her skin, so she decided to punish him by raising her leg and wrapping it around his waist; her efforts were not in vain as he moaned and frantically peppered kisses all over her shoulders and throat. He quickly became addicted to the sweet taste of her skin and the scent of her perfume as well as the feeling of her nails raking across his back. His hand shot down to grip her thigh and pull her sharply against him to show Brennan exactly what she was doing to him- the silk of the dress was still in the way though. Booth's other hand whipped up to the clasp and his teeth grew more persistent on her neck as a result. She responded by threading her fingers through his hair and pulling his head back to look at her.

"I can't go to work with bite marks on my neck," she scolded him lightly. Chuckling softly, he reclaimed her mouth and repeated the actions he had done to her against the car.

This is where things stopped being "tame".

Booth moved back, grabbed her by her hips, and threw her against the wall before slamming his entire body against her slim figure. A pleased smile flashed across his face as he teased her lips open and slid his tongue into her mouth to trace every outline and taste her natural sweetness that was lightly laced with the remnants of the wine they had with dinner. He would forever love the taste of the wine, but he would forever be an addict of her taste, touch, scent, and appearance. He growled into her lips as sparks flew through his body up to shock his brain while blood shot downward faster than a penny dropped from the top of the Empire State Building. It was delicious.

Thoughts and logic literally flashed out of her brain as her entire sensory chasm was filled overloaded with Seeley Booth. She had to moan loudly as she involuntarily arched into him and threw her head back against the wall to get rid of some of the energy that was now coursing almost painfully through her body. Good God, his mouth and hands were everywhere, shooting sensations that she was sure were going to set her skin on fire, and it took her a few moments to respond. And respond she did. Her tongue immediately met his in a battle for dominance and eventually she claimed the right to explore his mouth thoroughly. One hand grasped the shoulder holster and pulled him even harder against her while the other worked its way through his hair and scratched his scalp, gaining another moan from his mouth. The agent wouldn't give up that easily; his rough hands grabbed large fistfuls of the blood red silk and pushed it up her thighs before grasping said thighs and hoisting them up around his waist.

"Seeley," she moaned into his ear, causing him to shiver. "You're not going to last very long standing up."

Brennan nibbled his earlobe while letting hot, breathy moans dance across the sensitive skin as she wrapped her slender arms around his shoulders and clawed at him in a desperate attempt to pull him even closer.

He got her point quickly.

The pair quickly helped the other shed their clothing and then they crashed into bed together and effectively effaced the line over and over again.

* * *

Hours later...

Brennan was curled up against Booth's chest with his strong arm wrapped around her and stroking her bare skin under the duvet. Her breath danced across his chest and she spoke after a long moment of silence.

"I can't feel my legs."

He let out a laugh.

"Good. I'd feel like a loser if it was just me."

"How am I going to stay awake today?"

"How are you going to_ stand up_?"

"I don't know, you jerk," she said in playful accusation.

"'Jerk'? It's not like you tried to stop me. In fact, I think you kind of cheered me on," he grinned haughtily at her, earning a weak slap to his chest.

"I couldn't help it. It was that damn shoulder holster," she grumbled before placing a small kiss on his pec.

"You like that, huh?" he couldn't stop grinning.

"All right, you wear the shoulder holster and I'll stop wearing my bra."

His jaw dropped a fraction and his eyes widened.

"Yeah, I saw you staring," she smirked.

"Get used to it, I'll never stop checking you out," he winked at her as he kissed her forehead.

She looked at him and took a moment while he closed his eyes to admire his masculine features; she began to wonder how exactly she had managed to go this long without pouncing on him. Of course it was more of a physical attraction, it was the way he treated other people, the way he was around children, the way he was fully devoted to his family, the way he saved that little smile just for her, the way he forced her to eat and take a break from work, and the way he accepted her no questions asked. Suddenly, she felt his ever-roaming fingers brush over a scar and she was reminded how incredibly blemished she was.

He knew she was watching him, so he let her look; it was more than enough at that moment to just run his fingers over her smooth skin. Contentment was the only thing he knew as the sensation of her body pressed against his lapped over him like waves softly beating on the beach until he felt a raised patch of skin that could only be a scar. Brennan gasped under his touch and shot bolt upright in the bed; he instinctively sat up- however difficult it was- and placed a hand on her back which only caused her to flinch again.

"You OK, Babe?"

She shook her head with her eyes clenched shut; he had never seen her like this, her body was stiff and trembling slightly, her face was contorted with pain, and she jumped every time he tried to touch her.

"No," she finally managed to reply with a small, quiet voice. She forced a ragged breath into her lungs and released it piece by piece to try and imprison her screams in the cages of her lungs. It was too painful. She couldn't let herself relive that injury and most of all she couldn't let his face back into her mind.

Why did Booth have to be so damn curious? Why did he have to find that scar? Why did he care so much about her? And why did he keep coming back to comfort and protect her when she was a murderer? In all honesty, she had killed more than forty-four people. The forty-four were only the people she had been sent to kill as a Marine sniper- there were still those she had assassinated close up and those who had died at her hands during open fire or had gotten in her way during an assignment.

"Bones, talk to me," he prodded softly as he leaned forward and rubbed soothing circles on her still naked back.

"Seeley," Brennan cut off his attempt at comfort with the use of his first name.

The first time he had heard her call him by his first name was a few hours before when she had been screaming it during their many hours of lovemaking; he loved hearing it from her, but not in this context. Here it sounded quiet and eerie, like that odd silence and stillness you feel before you jump off the high dive. That single word, however calm, shredded his heart more than all the times he had seen her crying combined. Her voice told him that whatever had hurt her was too painful for the strong woman he loved to even acknowledge.

"Temperance," he murmured, moving to see her face.

"Look at my back."

It was an odd request, but the moment was too delicate to question her. So he looked.

"Oh my God," he gasped.

"I know," a whimper fell from her lips while she wrapped the sheet around her body and practically sprinted into the bathroom.

"Bones!" he called after her, but he knew it was pointless trying to stop her.

He had never seen scars that looked so painful; she had to have at least twenty of every shape and size. He identified six gunshot wounds, two burns, and a few scars that could have resulted from a whip. What disturbed him more, though, was the characteristics of the scar that had caused the onslaught of- whatever that was- because it felt like teeth marks.

* * *

Sooooo? How'd I do with this one?? Reviews are encouraged and rewarded with good karma!! haha lol.


	20. Coming Clean and Cleaning Off

How could not have noticed the scars? How did something like that go unnoticed when her dress had left the skin exposed? Hell, he'd been trying to memorize every detail of her body through the evening and yet he had missed such an important one. Normally, he would giver her her space until she came to him ready to talk, but he needed to know how she had gotten bitten. Realizing that it was useless to sit there and wonder, he pulled on his boxers and went after her.

Booth knocked softly before he eased the bathroom door open and entered to find her standing motionless in the middle of the tile floor with the sheet still wrapped around her. Her eyes were glazed over and her face revealed nothing. She could've been angry or happy or devastated and he wouldn't be able to tell.

"Temp?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

"I'm so so sorry, Booth," Brennan breathed, trembling with heavy emotion.

Booth couldn't take it anymore; he crossed the bathroom and reached out to pull her to him, but she held up her hand to his chest and stopped him.

Brennan put a hand to his chest to stop him from coming any closer, she couldn't handle him holding her when she needed a clear mind to sort everything out. Questions that had yet to be answered thrashed inside her skull so much that it made her head spin. How many people had she actually killed? How would Booth react? How could she ever face the memories of that day? How would Booth take it? How could they have left her there? How could he do that to her? How could he have enjoyed it?

"Bones-"

She cut him off with a sharp shake of her head; she was slowly losing her grip on her composure and now had to squeeze her bottom lip between her teeth to stop herself from screaming.

It was obvious that he had to act fast if he wanted to catch her before she fell. He realized then that she was more similar to him than he had thought- she had killed and she had scarred. Right now, his girl needed comfort and who was he to deny her the peace of mind that she had gone completely out of her way to give him. He leaned in so that he was inches away, but not touching.

"I forgive you," he whispered, as if afraid to shatter her with the sound.

Her shimmering sapphires raised to meet his chocolate browns.

"What?" she rasped.

"I forgive you."

"But Booth-" she paused and sucked in a breath. "I forgot about the others. There are more than forty-four people on my list."

His forehead wrinkled as he tried to see past her statement.

"I just remembered the ones that I'd sniped- I was just focusing on my Marine kills. I forgot about the people that I'd gone to assassinate close up and the others who died because they got in my way."

This was a lot to process and it made Booth feel lightheaded and dizzy. Had she actually killed more people than him?

"108."

_Holy shit._

"Damn," Booth muttered as he took a step back to try and wrap his head around it.

"Do you regret it?" she hiccuped slightly as her sobs slowly rose in her throat. Her eyes threatened to spill over at any sudden movement and now he could tell that she was barely holding it together.

"Regret what?"

"Sleeping with me."

_Is she really that blind?_

"No, making love to you was the best thing I've ever done in my life," he sighed lovingly, the emotions that their torrid night together stirred up came flooding back to him stronger than ever.

It was the right thing and he knew it as she looked up at him and smiled with genuine relief.

"I'll tell you about the scar tonight," she nodded softly.

"Thank you," he paused and slowly his eyes began to smolder again. "Now, about last night-"

"Yeah?" she asked coyly as she reached up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I'm going to need to shower pretty good to take care of that sweat."

He grinned wickedly at her before reaching into the shower and cranking on the water to a comfortable temperature. After that, she watched him as he stripped off his boxers before granting him the same pleasure as she let the sheet pool around her ankles at the floor. They met in a another passionate embrace before stepping under the spray together.

* * *

I'm tired, I woke up early to continue writing this so the least you could do is review while I get my coffee.


	21. Always Be His Bones

That evening, Brennan walked in the door and locked it behind her with a tired and frustrated grunt; her first day had been awful and dripping with stress and unnecessary visitations from Chase to make sure she was OK every ten minutes. If it was possible, she hated him even more today than she did last night. She grumbled angrily to herself as she slid off her jacket and shoes to place them by the door. The only good thing that that waste of testosterone had done was giving her a good excuse to jump Booth. _Booth_. That thought instantly brought a smile to her face. Maybe her partner could help her relax- or at least wear her out until she collapsed. Grinning wickedly, she stepped into the living room and once she set eyes on the man she adored, her breath hitched in her throat.

There he was, fast asleep on the couch with the game still on TV. He was still sitting up with his head tilted back against the back of the couch and his arms hanging limply by his sides. Where others would see a worn out man who was headed for a sore neck upon awakening, she saw opportunity. She saw that she had a clear view of his throat and his arms gave her full access to his chest and lap. The day for Temperance Brennan was taking a very pleasant turn.

Another wicked grin flashed across her face as she unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her shoulders revealing a cream-colored camisole; she put one knee next to his hip and then swung her other leg over so that she was straddling his waist. He shifted slightly in his sleep and murmured something that was inaudible, but she was almost sure that he said her name. She let out a small laugh and then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his throat in a sweet kiss and then he let out a groan, driving her further. Her hands rubbed slow circles against his ribcage through the shirt and her mouth was leaving a trail of moist kisses, pausing here and there to suck lightly at his skin.

"Bones," he smiled softly, keeping his eyes closed. His hands found their strength and rose to drag themselves up the backs of her thighs and slid up the back of her shirt.

"Did someone miss me?" he breathed huskily while his fingers sleepily fumbled for the clasp of her bra. "I thought we talked about this."

"In all fairness," she purred as her lips met his. "you're not wearing the shoulder holster."

"Hm," he mumbled as his words were cut off by her tongue entering his mouth. She shifted herself so that she was resting flush against him while slipping her hands up to run them through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp with her nails, unleashing a shiver from the man under her.

"How was work?" Booth asked casually as he threw her bra away from them and moved to taste her collarbone.

"Well," she gasped. "I hate my job."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckled, breath dancing across her skin.

"Someone alert the media."

"Well, I was bored here too if it makes you feel any better."

"Yeah?" she laughed as she reclaimed his mouth.

He grinned through their kiss and then his hand brushed against the raised flesh on her side. _The scar. _Suddenly, at that contact, their act came to a screeching halt; she jumped away from him and stood with her back towards him.

"Bones."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Bones," his voice grew more persistent.

Still no response other than the heavy sigh. He got up from the couch with surprising speed given his physical state and walked over to her. Once again, he had to handle this situation as if it were a bomb. But this was his Bones he was talking about; she wouldn't hurt him too badly if he did something wrong.

"Temperance," he murmured while he snaked his arms around her waist from behind and wrapped her in an intimate embrace. She responded by letting her head fall back to rest on his shoulder and resting her hands on his arms.

"We were working a case. The unsub was a psychotic cannibal that liked his victims alive and screaming when he- he ate them," she swallowed hard and continued. "He preferred the taste of women and he had a thing for brunettes."

He clenched his eyes shut as he resisted the urge to track the bastard down and rip him apart. _No one_ touched his Bones. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek as his arms tightened protectively around her and he buried his face in her neck.

"When we asked him why he went after me, he simply said that he was getting bored and I presented a challenge."

Booth inhaled her shampoo to comfort himself.

"I'm sorry, I-" he trailed off, realizing that he couldn't apologize for not protecting her when he didn't even know her when it had happened.

"Don't be," she shook her head, hair brushing across his face as she did so. "It just hurt _so bad _and all I can remember thinking while his- teeth were i-in me was 'I hope I die quickly'."

Burning, acidic tears scorched his eyes as he imagined this beautiful woman in such horrible pain; he shuddered and let out a shaky breath against her skin.

"I love you so much," he whispered against her neck. A long exhalation was the only response he received for a long time.

Had he scared her? Booth was planning on waiting a little longer before he sprung his strong love for her on the poor anthropologist- not anthropologist. Assassin? Profiler? Marine? Spy? What the hell was she? Didn't matter, no matter what she did she would always be his Bones. So, he didn't leave the confession at just that.

"So much that it hurts."

She turned her head so that her cheek brushed against his face; now her blue eyes were piercing into his skull and silently asking him if he meant what he said.

"I love you too," she rasped, voice heavy laden with emotion.

If at all possible, he fell even more in love with her at that moment. Instead of verbalizing what he felt for the next few hours, he showed her exactly how much value she held in his heart.

* * *

you guys know the drill...now I'm GOING TO SLEEP! There had better be reviews when I wake up!! haha lol! but seriously i want feedback


	22. Her Morning Elegance

**_OK kiddies, the next chapter may or may not be creepy and there may or may not be angst. Anyway, here's one last bit of fluffy goodness for you all. The song is: "Her Morning Elegance" by Oren Lavie and no I do not own it. The story is mine, the characters are not. OK, Bob, roll film!_**

* * *

Booth rolled over and reached out for Brennan only to find the spot next to him empty and cold; his eyes opened to confirm it: she was gone. Feeling slightly panicked, he got out of bed, slipped on a pair of boxers, and ventured out into the living room. Once again, her voice floated out to him softly as she sang along with the gentle melody playing on the radio.

_Sun been down for days  
A pretty flower in a vase  
A slipper by the fireplace  
A cello lying in its case _

He would never tire of waking up to her making him breakfast and singing. God, she was perfect. He whispered a silent prayer of thanks to his Lord as he leaned against the door frame and watched her in a complete state of bliss.

_Soon she's down the stairs  
Her morning elegance she wears  
The sound of water makes her dream  
Awoken by a cloud of steam  
She pours a daydream in a cup  
A spoon of sugar sweetens up _

Dressed in a camisole and short shorts, She was making fried eggs and bacon this morning and even though he had had the dish a million times before, he was filled with eagerness and curiosity as if it were a completely new concept.

_And she fights for her life  
as she puts on her coat  
And she fights for her life on the train  
She looks at the rain  
as it pours  
And she fights for her life  
as she goes in a store  
with a thought she has caught  
by a thread  
she pays for the bread  
and she goes…  
Nobody knows _

Booth sneaked up behind her and without touching her, looked around her shoulder to see her beautiful face; her face was glowing, mostly because of the second night of passion-driven lovemaking, and a small smile graced her complexion as if she was hiding a tender and delicate secret. He cocked his head to the side and contemplated how anyone could look so incredibly amazing and still be called human.

_Sun been down for days  
A winter melody she plays  
The thunder makes her contemplate  
She hears a noise behind the gate  
Perhaps a letter with a dove  
Perhaps a stranger she could love _

Brennan knew that he was watching her, but unlike with other men, she didn't really care if he heard her singing. He would stop her and maybe even laugh if he didn't enjoy it, but instead of calling her out on her odd morning habit, he stood there and watched her with that intent fascination. Her heart swelled and she couldn't help but blush under his intense gaze.

_And she fights for her life  
as she puts on her coat  
And she fights for her life on the train  
She looks at the rain  
as it pours  
And she fights for her life  
as she goes in a store  
where the people are pleasantly  
strange  
and counting the  
change  
as she goes…  
Nobody knows _

Her last word was cut short as his lips found hers for a loving kiss.

"Hey," she mumbled against him.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" he grinned as he pulled back, his hands came to rest on her hips and he pulled her into him for an affectionate hug.

"Yeah, I think you have," she whispered while her arms snaked around his neck. With a kiss on her shoulder, his hands lifted her hem to flatten against her bare skin. His finger pads fell on the scar and he immediately tightened his grip on her when she pulled back and turned her face away from him.

"No you don't," he whispered, forcing her to look back at him, this time with vulnerability. He didn't even think this time, he automatically knelt down and kissed the scar tenderly. He looked up and met her gaze to see her watery smile. As he stood back up she pulled him into another kiss.

* * *

Hours later, Booth was pulled from his daydream by his phone ringing. He answered the call to he would later refer to as the worst call he had ever gotten in his life.

"Booth, Chase has disappeared and we can't find Brennan."


	23. His Daddy's Horns, His Mother's Tail

Brennan awoke slowly and painfully in a cold, damp room. She was bound and gagged on a dirt floor with a bare light bulb dangling in the center of the room as her only source of light._ Wow_, she thought sarcastically. _A dark and cold basement, it doesn't get any more original than that. _The lack of physical pain told her that she had probably been sedated, Brennan deduced that it had most likely been chloroform due to the mental fog she was in, and transported in the back of a- no, she stopped and rewound her theory. People would have noticed a grown woman being thrown in a car and there wasn't a back alley to use. Even if there was, he couldn't have taken her down the elevator because they worked on the seventh floor. The stairs weren't an option and he couldn't have taken her down the service elevator...unless she was in the basement. Yes, the basement under the law firm would be her best guess as to her location. Now that she had that figured out, all she had to do was get out. She rolled her eyes and began planning.

* * *

Booth was wavering between bursting into tears and shooting everyone in his sight; he didn't understand how everyone could remain so detached when _his Bones_ was in the hands of a homicidal psycho! No one knew anything so far and there were still no leads. Chase was gone and his girl could be- she could be- God, he wanted to vomit at the thought.

He slumped into a nearby chair to help steady himself. Booth couldn't let himself think like that if he were to still remain calm. He couldn't be objective or rational, but he could be calm. For her, he would be calm. With a deep breath, he went back into the New York FBI Director's office to see if anything new had arrived.

"What do you mean, you _'have nothing_'?" he fumed at the director. Booth slammed his fists on the desk and was now leaning in dangerously close to the superior agent's face to show him just how _not _intimidated he was.

"Agent Booth, need I remind you that this is not your-"

"_Need I remind you_ that this is my partner we are talking about?!"

"Booth," a male voice called softly from the doorway. Booth turned around to see Quinn standing there with a look that said "_Knock it off or you're going to get your ass kicked_".

"Can I talk to you?" Quinn asked solemnly. Booth nodded, eyes still lit with fiery rage, and then followed Quinn out to the hallway. The two of them went to an isolated part of the hallway and then both of Brennan's partners turned on each other.

"What the _hell _are you doing?! We need his cooperation!" Quinn demanded.

"Brennan is out there in the hands of that lunatic and he has absolutely nothing so far!"

"Why do you think? He's too busy listening to you rant about how they're not getting anywhere!"

If looks could kill, both men would've been reduced to a pile of dust.

"I can't just sit here and do nothing," Booth said, lowering his voice from livid to concerned.

"Do you know how far Brennan would kick your ass if she saw you freaking out like this?" Quinn chuckled teasingly.

"Point taken," Booth rubbed a hand over his mouth in amusement.

"Now, what do you remember about Chase's behavior toward Brennan? Did he seem interested in her or was he more patronizing?"

* * *

Blood dripped from a gash on her forehead, the sticky, metallic fluid reminding her that she should know better than to tease the man holding the big gun- whether or not he was compensating for something. A smug grin overtook her face despite being pistol whipped, insulting insecure men would _never_ get old. She, Quinn, and the other soldiers and agents she worked and served with had made a game of who could get the terrorist the most worked up. She let out a long sigh. At least she was free to move around, however the sharp pain in her leg made that difficult. Yeah, apparently the bastard had a screwdriver too.

"Well, this sucks," she muttered bitterly to the opposite wall. Brennan groaned in pain as her leg began to ache again. _OK, Brennan, if you can bust out of an Iraqi military prison cell then you can overpower this wimpy psycho and get out of a __**basement**__! _Her blue eyes scanned the room for anything that might help. Then, she got an idea.

"Well well well," Chase's voice boomed through the room as he once again entered the room.

"Feeling better, Princess? Or do you need a hug?" she smirked.

"You really don't recognize me, do you? I mean, I thought everyone knew my father's face."

_His father? OK, who does he look like? He looks like um- no way. THAT PSYCHO WAS ABLE TO REPRODUCE??_

"So, you're the spawn of Satan, huh? Yeah, I can see it," she shrugged casually despite her heart thrashing against her ribcage. "You have your daddy's horns- the tail must be your mother's."

He glared at her and his fists shook with anger. She grinned in smug victory and she didn't regret her insults even as he lunged at her and slapped her across her face. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground; a quiet whimper escaped her lips as her cheek throbbed with the new bruise. _ Where's an overprotective alpha-male when you need him? _She finally acknowledged the wave of fear as Chase came at her with a syringe full of clear liquid.

* * *

The next day...

Booth and Quinn stood among the rest of the FBI team in the middle of the empty basement; all of them feeling discouragement. The team scuttled about the room, collecting evidence and taking samples, while Brennan's partners stood still and speculated.

"We have to assume she's alive," Booth said, shoulders slumped in defeat. "She can't be dead."

"You learn fast," Quinn quipped. "All right, he probably transported her in the middle of the night. An unconscious woman could easily be passed off as drunk and asleep at night."

Booth's fist immediately tightened and his jaw clenched.

"Special Agent Booth!" a junior agent called from behind him.

"What?" he snapped.

"Easy, Kujo," Quinn warned before stepping around him and going over to the frightened junior agent to inspect the discovery. Booth rolled his eyes in aggravation before following Quinn.

"Looks like she carved something in the dirt," the junior stated lamely. He looked up to be met with two "_Thank you Captain Obvious_" glares. The junior gulped and skittered away to leave the two men to talk.

"Haha, that's our girl," Quinn chuckled proudly. Booth knelt down and took a better look at the message.

_Bite me, Son_

"Son of a bitch," Booth growled. The anger was suddenly too much for him to control and he ended up punching the wall with a loud grunt.

"Easy, Rambo, we'll get her."

Booth grabbed Quinn by his collar and slammed him against the wall without mercy.

"How's that, huh?" he growled fiercely. "He's going to eat her. He wanted to get her out here so that he could friggin' EAT HER!"

* * *

tsk tsk, Quinn should know better, huh? How'd you like this chapter?? Sorry, it was getting too fluffy and I need a little cannibalistic angst to spice things up. REVIEW and you shall be gifted with another chapter!! Good bye for now. floats away in a bubble


	24. Light Bulb: Good Weapon and a Good Idea

**_OK, i just want to profusely apologize for the ridiculous amount of time that it took me to update this story. School has been crazy (thank you research paper grr) and I'm sick (try imagining a doctor ripping your chest open with a sternum spreader without anesthesia and then you know how I feel). I know it's not an excuse, but I hope you'll forgive me!! I miss reviews so please give momma some feedback!!_**

* * *

She was cold. All feeling in her limbs was lost in a chasm of numbness and a dull ache that often accompanies being frozen. Another thing she had noticed was that she was shivering, but other than that she was unable to move. Her eyes shifted and her chapped lips parted to try and drag in more oxygen to satisfy her lungs' desperate screams for life. Everything around her was a haze, a fog, and an endless blur of shapes and shadows that she couldn't discern from one another. To her, everything was foreign and terrifying. _Booth, where are you?_ The only thing to comfort her was a swinging light bulb that dangled above her head.

Booth could feel everything crumbling and unraveling around him as the fruitless hour ticked away. He looked at the clock and his insides ached for Temperance. At this hour, back at the Jeffersonian, he would walk in to her office to find her working late and offer her food coupled with the grin he saved just for her that she couldn't resist. At this hour, during their recently found relationship, he would be making love to her on their spacious bed. He groaned miserably. He just wanted his Bones back in his arms and safe. Scrubbing a hand over his rumpled and unshaven face, he pulled himself out of his sorrow and began going over the evidence...again.

Brennan felt her consciousness slowly shredding as it was pulled from her grasp; each breath became more and more elusive and all she wanted to do was sleep. Of course, the idea of sleep screamed the words coma and death, so once again, she forced her eyes open and kept clinging to the state of barely living that she was trapped in.

The door creaked open and she felt her mind recoil in tired and exhausted wariness. Chase was back and one blurred glimpse at his face told her that he was inebriated with sadistic excitement like a child with permission to color all over the walls without consequence and eat cookies before dinner. At that moment, though she was too spent to even acknowledge his presence. She was too spent to bite back with a witty retort, too spent to spit in his eyes, too spent to even look at him.

_You want to spit in my hand? We're Scully and Mulder. _

Her eyes snapped open and her irises focused on the ceiling above her. Was he there with her? Or was it just her mind being cruel?

_Meet Jasper. _

She swallowed painfully, her throat was as dry as the Sahara.

_You're my partner. It's a guy-hug. _

Her eyelids fluttered and she prayed to God that the feeling in her body would soon return.

_I'm not that good at acting and you talk in your sleep. _

That was it. She wasn't going to give in to Chase and death and the pain that was slowly being brought to her awareness. No, Temperance Brennan was going to fight and take him down.

Booth and Quinn were at each other's throats; Booth insisted that Chase would use his father's hiding place and Quinn told him he was wrong and that Chase would more likely than not branch out and find his own spot. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife, so Booth decided to do what his gut told him. He was going to check out that abandoned building with or without support.

* * *

_**Later**_...

Brennan regained the feeling in her limbs; she figured Chase was counting on her many and painful injuries to keep her in place. His father must not have told him the whole truth as to how his arrest went down. Chase wasn't informed that all Brennan needed was a good rush of adrenaline and he would be as good as dead. Injuries she could handle, she was just waiting for her moment. And the dried blood in her hair, the gash in her leg, and the bruises inflicted by the crow bar told her that he wasn't going to be able to walk much less be able to discern rabbits from flagpoles once she was done with him. Yes, Chase was doomed to live the rest of his miserable life in utter and excruciating pain.

"You're tougher than the others," he voice cut through the damp and musty air. "None of them lasted past the electrocution."

She was silent.

"Aw, what's wrong, Dr. Brennan? You can dish it out, but you can't take it?" he mocked.

Oh, you are going to die.

"Well, I guess there's nothing else to do but-" he was cut off by Brennan flying at him and grinding the light bulb in his face.

* * *

Images flashed through his mind; images of Kenton, of the Gravedigger, and of Chase plagued him and he unconsciously put more pressure on the gas pedal. With her previous attackers, he had come close to losing her but had always managed to save her but this time, he wasn't sure if he would be so lucky. If Chase did kill her, people would no doubt ask him what he expected. What did he expect? He expected her to be a little beat up. He expected Chase to say something twisted that would make him want to vomit. He expected Chase to go to jail. He expected her to tell him that she was fine. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, the gears screamed in protest. He had not expected her to be walking down the sidewalk. The door was left open as he sprinted after her retreating figure.

"Bones!"

Brennan would admit that she was in pain while she wrapped the thin jacket tighter around her shoulders to fight out the chill. Her face, as well as her arms and leg, was caked in a disgusting paste comprised of blood and dirt. All she wanted to do was collapse in her bed and sleep until this piercing ache that coursed through her body disappeared. More importantly, she just wanted to see him again, to have him hold her and tell her that everything was going to be OK. However, once they found Chase and he saw what she could do to a person without killing them, she doubted that he would be able to look at her again like she was human.

"Bones!"

She thought her mind was playing tricks on her again.

"Bones!"

This time the voice was louder and was someone running towards her?

"Booth?" she rasped softly as she turned around. She barely had time to react before her body was swallowed in the tight and desperate embrace of her lover and partner. Her arms instinctively went around his waist as she buried her face in his chest and let the comforting presence wash over her. She was just beginning to feel relaxed when he jerked away from her.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, brown eyes laced with concern and alarm.

"No, Booth, I'm fine," she chuckled.

"God, I thought I wouldn't- I didn't know if I would see you again," he admitted softly as his eyes searched her face and his face stroked her cheek.

"How did you find me?" Brennan murmured as she placed both of her hands on his face and softly caressed his cheek. He took both of her hands and placed gentle and loving kisses on her palms before answering.

"Quinn told me where his dad hid out. I took a leap."

"I love you."

"Yeah?"

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

"Yeah."

Booth smiled, planted a kiss on her forehead, pulled her back into another hug. The two partners stood on that sidewalk, she with her injuries and he looking like he hadn't slept in a month, for a long time just holding onto each other and floundering in a sea of overwhelming relief. This blissful moment lasted until he spoke again.

"So, what happened to Chase?"


	25. Drunken Musings

The beeping of the machines that were monitoring her vitals were enough to drive her in insane. Yes, the pain killers were an upside to staying in the hospital, but being alone with the beeping caused her to be bored and annoyed. Booth was out sweeping the crime scene with the local unit and he still hadn't returned. She flinched as she remembered what he would find; she wondered if Chase had survived, he had suffered the full force of her wrath.

Brennan was concerned because Booth would see first-hand what she did and that scared her. Would he accept the fact that she was afraid for her life and couldn't help but feel vengeful? Or would he think of her as a monster? The extent of her actions went beyond mere self-defense and neutralizing the threat. Now that she really thought about it, Chase probably hadn't survived for very long after she left. Her eyes looked up at the ceiling and silently asked God to forgive her.

Booth was pacing outside her hospital room; he loved her, but he was having a difficult time wrapping his head around how they found Chase. His face was shredded with chips of thin, delicate glass embedded in the cuts, his arms were tied to two poles and he had been burned with a small blowtorch, his shins had been snapped like twigs, and his whole body was dark with bruises. The thought of Brennan doing that to someone made him shudder; she had tortured and killed a man. Had she enjoyed it? Did she try to get information out of him? Did she even have an excuse? How much guilt was she feeling? Was she even sorry at all? All of these questions had answers that could crush him. With a heavy sigh, he pushed open the door and stepped in.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi."

He slowly sat down next to her bed. Booth looked defeated, Brennan looked apprehensive.

"What happened, Brennan?"

She visibly flinched at the cold usage of her last name. He never called her that.

"I don't have a good excuse. All I have to say is that I wanted to know if there were any other bodies and I wanted to see him suffer the way we did."

"'We'? You mean you and the other girls?"

She nodded.

"What did he do to you?"

"I was drugged, beaten, burned, and I did what I had to do."

"You had to murder him?"

Brennan clenched her jaw and turned away from him.

"What were you thinking? Are you even sorry?"

"I'm regret doing that to a person, but I don't regret doing it to him."

"I see," he said quietly.

* * *

A week later, Brennan and Booth returned to DC and to their normal lives. However, the pair had both done their equal part in avoiding each other. Brennan stayed in the lab and Booth had stayed in his office; the murderers in DC had apparently decided to take a break from killing people. Hodgins and Angela both knew about the change in the partners' relationship and they also knew that the two had gone five days without seeing or speaking to each other.

Brennan sat on the couch in her office with Angela and Hodgins while they talked over a large, stuffed-crust pizza. They weren't working really, they were just musing on random topics and relaxing.

"So, Brennan," Hodgins spoke up after a moment of silence. "what annoys you the most- out of everything in the world, what do you find the most annoying?"

Brennan swallowed a bite of pizza.

"North Korean firing squads and snipers that can't aim."

Both heads turned to look at her in bewilderment.

"What?" Angela asked in horror.

"It's long story, but the North Korean firing is mean and they are pretty hateful towards Americans and if you're going to be shooting people at long distances with bullets that hurt like hell, the least thing you could do is make sure you kill the person," Brennan muttered. "Friggin' sniper."

Hodgins laughed.

"When did a sniper shoot you?" Angela asked.

"Eh, boss did something I didn't care for, so I made sure he knew it. He thought I would betray him, so yadda yadda I almost got whacked."

"You sound so Brooklyn," Angela laughed.

"Yeah, really. I was so used to you saying 'anthropologically speaking' or something like that," Hodgins snickered.

"Ah yes," Brennan sighed mock-wistfully. "I made a good squint."

* * *

Booth was sitting in his apartment on the other side of town, on his couch while he tried to drown himself in alcohol...again. He missed her, but he couldn't bring himself to face her. He loved her, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it anymore. She had brutally murdered someone and then she played it off as nothing. How could she be so cold? It was like she didn't even realize that it was a living, breathing human being that she had slaughtered. The images of Chases body flashed through his ind and caused him to cringe. How could she stomach that?

Then another thought came into his mind; she was drugged and terrified. Brennan was trying to get information and she wasn't in her right mind. So, why did she act like she intended to beat and burn him? It was most likely because she still blamed herself for what happened. Her mind was telling her that it was still her body that did that and therefore her responsibility. He groaned.

"Why am I such an ass?"

* * *

Hey guys!! Sorry about this one being so short, but it's all I got for now and I didn't want to make you wait again. Please review!!


	26. A Walk in the Park

The next morning, Booth was met with a throbbing, pounding headache as he slowly became lucid; he let out a loud groan and rubbed his temples while trying to sit up. Mind being fuzzy, it was difficult to recall what exactly had happened the night before, but he figured that he had gotten drunk. He sat up. Really drunk. The pounding thundered through his head like a train and the sudden sensation sent him reeling over the side of the bed and falling to the hard wood floor with a loud thump.

"Ugh," he groaned loudly and then winced at the sudden noise.

He pulled himself off of the floor and then proceeded to stumble out to his kitchen where he blindly groped around for aspirin and a glass of water. Once he had downed the medication, he slumped down into a chair and tried to recall the thing that was screaming for him to remember.

* * *

Brennan had decided to take the day off and found herself casually strolling down the sidewalk near a park; it was the same park that Booth's son liked to go to. She had no idea why she chose to go there, but something told her that she should. Children were running around and playing while their parents looked on and she couldn't help but feel a pang of the slightest envy. The family setting was another painful reminder of what she wouldn't have with Booth- wait, when did she start wanting to have kids? A sigh escaped her mouth... and then something caught her eye or someone, rather.

* * *

Booth sent up a prayer of thanks when the headache finally dulled; he was now able to walk into the Jeffersonian with his usual nonchalance in search of a certain woman. He went straight to her office only to find it empty.

"Bones?" he asked quietly into the darkness. Turning around with confusion on his face, he came face to face with Hodgins.

"Dude, you look like hell," the entomologist stated bluntly.

"Yeah, thanks," Booth brushed him off. "Have you seen Bones?"

"No man, she took the day off."

"Really? Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because she's severely injured and might need some time to recover."

Duh.

"Right. Thanks," Booth said in a clipped tone before making a beeline for the door.

* * *

Brennan stopped walking and squinted at the spot where she had seen the person. No, she thought, panicked. _No no no no_! Searching the park, she spotted Booth's son. _NO NO NO NO_! The man began walking in the direction of the little boy; Brennan vaulted over the fence and took off in a full sprint towards Parker in hopes that she could stop the man from hurting him. There was no doubt; he wanted revenge. Frank Tothill wouldn't come all this way just to talk, after all. He wanted blood.

She skidded to a stop in front of Parker and pushed him behind her as the man came within firing distance and pulled out a gun from the inside of his coat.

"Dr. Bones?" Parker asked in a small voice. Should I tell him to run? No, Frank could still shoot him.

"Stay behind me, Parker. Everything will be OK," Brennan said softly while intensifying her glare that could set stone on fire.

"Can you really promise little boy that?" Frank growled in his thick Russian accent.

"Just walk away, Frank. You won't hurt him."

"That is up to me, yeah?"

"Not necessarily," she countered.

"Dr. Bones?" Parker's small voice came trembling with tears.

"Sh, it'll be OK," she whispered soothingly.

"We'll see," Frank said. Suddenly, Parker shot out from behind Brennan and both adults whirled around to the watch him. Brennan took off to once again put herself in the line of fire and this time she was proven right as a bullet tore through the air and ripped into her shoulder; she let out a scream and she stumbled, but she fought the pain to stand up and meet Frank head on. Blood sputtered out of her gaping wound, but she threw punches with expertise like no other. A quick jab to his gut, the heel of her hand to his nose, a jab to her gut, a right hook to her jaw, and then finally she gained enough momentum to jump up and deliver a quick and precise roundhouse kick to the side of his head. This was what brought Frank Tothill to the ground. It was then that things began to go black; Brennan's head was spinning from pain and blood loss while she stumbled and collapsed to the ground. The last thing she heard was the sirens and people screaming.

* * *

Booth was in his office when the phone call came. The doctor said she was no longer in critical condition and was being moved from the ICU; it only took Booth about ten minutes to reach the hospital. He burst through the doors and he all but sprinted through the hallways to get to her room; the door flew open and he rushed into the room to find a doctor hovering over Brennan's pale and almost fragile body. The agent couldn't remember a time when he had been more afraid.

"What happened?" he choked out.

"All we know is that she suffered a bullet wound and a few blows to the abdomen and jaw," the doctor replied.

Booth drew in a ragged breath before he dismissed the doctor with a nod; once he was alone, he pulled up a chair next to her bed and encased her porcelain hand in his own.

"I am so so sorry, Bones," he whimpered softly before laying his forehead down onto the back of her hand and clenching his eyes shut.

* * *

All right, put the pitchforks down! I'm sorry for being so ridiculous about updating but I'm back now and all is well children!! I'll update soon, but some reviews would be encouraging!!


	27. Wake Up and Open Your Eyes

"Bones, I'm so so sorry," Booth whispered over and over again while tears threatened to spill from his tired eyelids. She was so pale.

"DADDY!" a small boy's voice shrieked as he flew into the room and nearly knocked Booth out of the chair as he leaped into his arms.

"Parker?" he was thoroughly confused as he hugged his son tightly. "What are you doing here? What's going on?"

"It's my fault, Daddy," Parker whimpered while he pulled back to look Booth in the face.

Brennan barely heard voices through the thick glacier of pain she was being crushed by, but she was sure there were voices. They sounded familiar, but it was hard to tell. Struggling and wriggling against the enormous weight on her chest, she finally began to rise towards consciousness. The voices became louder and soon she was able to recognize them: Booth and Parker. Brennan fought harder to get to them.

"What do you mean 'it's your fault'?"

Parker swallowed some tears and continued to explain.

"A bad man was at the park, he had a gun, and Dr. Bones got in the way."

Booth's stomach's bottom fell out and his heart fell to his feet. Both of them were in danger and one of them had to get hurt- and he could have saved the two most important people in his life if he had been there. Suddenly, there was the faintest movement coming from behind them.

"Jeez, who died?" Brennan croaked.

Two heads snapped in her direction.

"Dr. Bones?"

"Temperance," Booth sighed in relief, the overwhelming joy at her survival was almost enough to kill him.

"It's never good when people sound surprised to see you awake," she chuckled softly, her throat still a little sore.

"What happened?" Booth asked quietly.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Bones," Parker whimpered.

"Hey, Parker, it's not your fault. That bad man was after me and he just saw you first."

"Who was it?"

"Tothill."

Booth began to wonder why that name had sounded familiar.

"I'm sorry," Brennan whispered. However, it wasn't her words that portrayed her penitence- it was the pain in her eyes.

* * *

Two hours later...

Parker had been picked up by Rebecca (who was less than thrilled with the situation) an hour before, the squints had visited and expressed their relief at finding her OK, and now it was just the two partners. Booth was fraught with guilt and Brennan was trying to remember if she had killed Tothill in her fight. _You're really not helping yourself with your psychotic sociopath image, ya know, _she thought to herself. She would've continued in silence to avoid what hateful words his mouth might spew at her, but Booth had another agenda.

"Bones," he sighed gently, causing her to meet his gaze. "I'm-"

"I know, Booth. I put your son at risk and that's unacceptable. I just didn't think-"

"What are you talking about? I was going to tell you that I'm sorry for pushing you away."

She sat back, stunned.

"Why?"

"I just didn't consider what you went through while Chase had you. I just kept seeing his corpse and couldn't help but think that you did that to him. I was stupid to think that and you have no idea how sorry I am that I wasn't there for your recovery."

"It's not your fault. I _did_ do that to him."

"True, but you were drugged and freaked out. You were defending yourself."

"I snapped. I didn't know what to do, so I just started slashing at him. I wasn't stable enough to tell if he was dead or not, so I made sure he wouldn't come after me."

"I can't blame you. I don't know what I would've done in that situation."

"No one ever does."

"Can you forgive me?"

"Can we call it even?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "I think we can."

"Good."

"Tabula Rasa, right?"

She laughed softly as she leaned forward and placed a tentative kiss on his lips. The tenacity of the kiss lasted no longer than a blink of an eye. His tongue, recognizing its playmate, plunged into her mouth to recapture the taste he had been craving. A moan escaped her mouth that forced him to shift closer to her to that he was sitting right next to her with his arms braced on both sides of her hips. She placed a hand on his jaw and tilted her head to the side to gain better access as her mouth began taking back the lead. Both of them had every intention of making love right on that hospital bed, but Brennan's injuries chose that moment to scream at her causing her to jump back and wince painfully.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Can I get you anything? Do you want me to call-"

His rambling was cut off by her hand gently clamping over his mouth.

"I'm fine. I just need to rest," she reassured him, "and if I'm going to recover without any delays, then I'm going to have to stay away from you for a while."

"Yeah, that's probably best."

"All right, well you come to my apartment in about a week and a half and we'll do paperwork."

She almost laughed at his disappointed expression.

"And by paperwork, I mean each other."

* * *

Hey! Sorry I've been crappy about updating. Alas, my story is coming to an end and I was just wondering if maybe I should try some, oh i don't know, smut? frown I have no idea what to do, so hit me up with suggestions and reviews!! Thanks!


	28. The Only Guy

**Here it is guys!! the end of my (first?) contribution to this wonderful site. i hope you enjoyed it and I just want to thank you guys for the amazing feedback and major ego boosts!! Now, I have a question for those brave souls willing to answer, so please read the last note and then REVIEW!! Thanks a bunch my darlings!!**

**OH!! sorry, this chapter is rated kinda maybe sorta M. (I don't know, just don't say I didn't warn you)**

* * *

Her hand flew to her eyes as the shrill ringing of her phone disturbed her sleep; she let out a groan of frustration and annoyance as she answered sharply, "What?!"

"Hi," his voice came through the speaker husky and utterly irresistible.

She was instantly in a far better mood.

"Hey, what's up?" she smiled as she looked at the clock. 2:30? Jeez.

"Couldn't sleep," he answered quickly. "How're you doing?"

"Well, I was asleep-"

"Sorry," he audibly winced.

"It's OK," she brushed him off. "Is everything OK?"

"Yeah. No. Sort of, I don't know."

"I miss you, too."

He paused and she could almost see his stunned expression.

"I miss you so much," he rasped.

"What do you miss?"

He had to smile at her teasing playfulness as he sat up and scooted back against the headboard; he could hear her readjusting herself in her bed as well.

"I miss hearing you sing in the morning."

Her laugh rewarded him.

"And I miss looking at you without any restrictions."

Another soft laugh made his smile grow impossibly wider.

"I miss kissing you however I want."

"Me too. Go on."

He lowered his voice to a dangerous rumble, "I miss fucking you."

Her shocked silence made him grin triumphantly to himself.

Brennan could've sworn she had forgotten how to breathe as soon as he said that. The vulgarity of his admission made her burn with carnal lust like no other; the thin cotton of her panties suddenly became damp as a result of it. Her legs squirmed slightly to relieve some of the pressure building inside her. She closed her eyes and let her head tilt back against the headboard and then his gravelly voice came back to her ear.

"_I miss making you come_."

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time for that later on. You've been a very good boy the past few weeks, one more day and you can fuck me all you like."

He sighed contentedly, "Just so we're clear, just what am I allowed to do to you?"

"You want me to spell it out for you?"

"Pretty much."

She could hear him smiling and immediately set out for revenge.

"First, you're going to take me into my bedroom and make love to me, pound me into _my_ bed for the first time and I am going to scream your name like you've never heard before. I am going to make you so hard you'll think you are about to explode- and you will, but when you do, it'll be inside of me."

"Sounds good."

"And then, once you've recovered, I'm going to suck your cock."

She smiles smugly when she hears him gasp. _This is going to be a very interesting night. _

* * *

Booth was exhausted and excited at the same time, although he had no idea how that was even possible. He had been up all night talking (if anyone could honestly call it that) with his girlfriend and now his body was feeling the strain of the lack of sleep; however, he was at the same time buzzing with the anticipation of being with her again after a long time of being apart. It came down to this: he missed her. Although he wanted to get back to their normal routine of the relationship- her making breakfast and singing, them going out together, etc.- he was having a pretty rough time getting past the everlasting hard on in his pants. He needed the day to be over _**now**_.

And he nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started ringing.

"Booth," his voice held its normal confidence... surprisingly.

"Hi, it's me."

"Bones," he sighed deeply in relief before letting his voice slip into the soft, tenderness he saved for her, "you have no idea how glad I am to hear from you."

"I can imagine. How're you holding up?"

"That phone call last night is ruining my focus."

"Haha," she laughed gently. "I'm sorry about that. I'll make it up to you tonight."

He groaned.

"Don't say that. You'll only make it worse."

"Sorry. How can I help?"

"I don't know. I don't think that having you come over here for a quickie on the desk would be the best solution."

"Probably not. Although-"

"Oh, God."

"Just kidding. Sorry. I don't really know how to help you."

"It's OK," he sighed heavily. "I just need to think of something else."

"Picture Hodgins' hairy ankles."

"OH MY GOD! Temp! What the hell?!"

Her dulcet laughter flooded his ears.

"Sorry," she giggled. "I just thought that would gross you out enough to get rid of- you know."

"Someone getting a little prudish?"

"No, but saying the words probably won't help much."

"Good point."

"All right, well I better get going before thing one and two blow something up."

"OK. Love you," he couldn't help but grin at those words.

"Love you, too. Bye."

* * *

That night...

Brennan's door opened to reveal the forensic anthropologist dressed in a red, sleeveless baby-T with the British flag printed on it and a pair of well-fitting, faded jeans that hugged every curve. Her make-up was done light and her hair was left down and slightly teased to give it a messy, bed-head look. Booth's mouth went dry and all thoughts of food went flying out the window.

"Hey," she grinned slyly. "Come on inside."

He bit back a groan at the possible double meaning in that sentence as he walked into her apartment, shut and locked the door after him, and then sat down at the table. Brennan reemerged from the kitchen moments later with a dish of steaming macaroni and cheese and a large grin on her face.

"I missed you," she said softly as she leaned down and pressed her lips against his for brief, yet sensual, kiss before sitting down and smiling warmly at him. Booth returned it with a sexy, crooked half-grin and a predatory glint in his almost-black eyes.

Dinner was like an extended session of subtle yet obvious foreplay and by the end of it, both of them were painfully aroused even though they had yet to really touch each other yet.

That wouldn't last long though. Pretty soon, Booth wrapped his strong arms around her slender waist from behind and began pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses up the side of her neck until he reached her ear, where he paused to nip at it playfully. She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access and let out a soft moan. Her arms rose up and her fingers ran through his hair while he continued his journey towards her mouth; all of this coupled with the slight roaming of his hands over her abdomen almost made her knees weak and she could feel herself responding physically to her lover, but she still wouldn't turn fully towards him. Booth wouldn't be discouraged, though. His hands traveled up slowly, hiking the hem of her shirt up a few inches, until they reached her breasts. All of his movements ceased for a good moment while he recovered from his shock. _No bra_.

"Did you forget to put something on?" he murmured seductively against her jaw, her head still facing away from him.

"It was more of a conscious decision," she replied with a grin. She let out a gasp as his thumb gently brushed across one pebbled nipple through the shirt; her back arched on reflex when he teased her breasts and nibbled on her skin and her hips ground back against him once she felt the rapidly growing erection in his pants. His hands traveled downwards towards her radiating heat and slowly undid the button and zipper on her pants- this only made her fingers clutch onto his hair more tightly.

"Bedroom?" he growled sensuously.

"That is what we talked about, right?" she whispered back equally. Without a second thought, Booth swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom.

* * *

Booth was kissing the little beads of sweat off of Brennan's forehead that he was pretty damn proud to be the reason they were there in the first place; Brennan raised her head slightly to look at him inquisitively when she felt him smiling against her forehead.

"What?" he asked casually.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing, it's just-"

She quirked an eyebrow, silently telling him to finish his thought.

"It's just that I was thinking that there's a good chance- now don't take this the wrong way- that I may be the one and only man to touch you for the rest of your life."

He visibly cringed as he waited for her to punch him square in the face; his surprise was indescribable when he felt a kiss pressed to his jaw instead of a fist.

"You're so adorable," she cooed at him while positioning herself on top of him to gain better leverage for their kisses. "Seeley, of course you're going to be the only man touching me for the rest of my life."

* * *

_**OK! so here is my question: how do you guys feel about me writing one shots of scenes taken from various episodes where I add a little of my Bren OOC twist to it?? **_


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